


The Mystery of Me

by Enchanted_Hats



Series: The Blind Alley series [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Eighth Movie Tie-On, F/M, Hero of Wave/ Guardian of Aura, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchanted_Hats/pseuds/Enchanted_Hats
Summary: Prequel to Blind Alley.Pokemon training can be dangerous. Never has Ash been made more aware of this than with the untimely death of a friend. On the verge of quitting his pokemon journey, Ash finds himself in Cameron just in time for its annual pokemon tournament. Where he meets Lucario. Where he learns about the wave energy he can control. And the former Chosen One wants no part of it.Circumstances will pair this unlikely match, human and pokemon, together. And somehow, it might be just what the two needed.





	1. Suicide

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of back story. This is a short story tacked on to my longer epic titled The Blind Alley. It's a re-written version of the Lucario movie fitting into to the other stories' storyline. It will follow the movie loosely, but many things will be changed for my own benefit. 
> 
> Long story short, Ash ran away from home in order to continue his pokemon training. But sometime while he was on his own, he obtained a new rival by the name of William. Because of a tragic accident, Ash mistakenly caused his rival's death. This story takes place shortly after said accident. Ash is 15 years old (see The Blind Alley for more details, which takes place two years in this story's future).

I don't know if I'll ever know  
Exactly how much that I hurt you  
-Pillar  
  
Ash hadn't spoken a word since he was released from the hospital. Not that he was that talkative anyway. His only sentences had been spent asking for William's condition. Where was he? How was he? When could Ash see him?  
  
William. William. _William_. And now all that was left was his name. A simple seven letter word in his mind. Because William was dead. Because he, Ash, had killed him.  
  
Incinerated. Unidentifiable molten chunks of him and his pokemon were scattered around the crater Ash himself had been found in. They couldn't even pretend that William was okay.  
  
Standing on the edge of his self made hollow, Ash couldn't speak.  
  
Trapped on his hospital bed, he had painted an image of himself scattering rose petals and saying broken words of regret. And then he'd lift a pistol to his temple. Half sobbing, half trembling but fully embracing his repentance.  
  
As soon as he recovered.  
  
How many months had he spent dreaming of that pulled trigger?  
  
Now the image had shattered- strewn across an inane landscape that he himself had altered. He could only stare into the dust and dirt, trying to piece together the last moments he had spent with William. The battle was a blur of sweat and emotions. But Charizard's final attack. The burn that ate away at his skin- and the bloodcurdling shriek that ripped at his ear drums. Was William screaming? Or had William died silently, leaving his murderer shrieking in his absence?  
  
Ash closed his eyes. The cellophane wrap that bound the roses in his arms crinkled nosily as he sunk to his knees.  He cradled the bouquet like it were a child. He wished that the dead could speak. So he could ask William what it was like.  
  
He had a 9mm semi automatic pistol heavy in his jacket pocket. Its magazine had been loaded. But Ash took no pride in his weapon of choice. He wanted it, his death, to be crude and ordinary. A lonely suicide of no importance.  
  
If Pikachu knew...  
  
If his mother knew...  
  
His mother. She had shown up at the hospital unexpectedly. When the charges were brought against him, a parental guardian was required to be present. They took the liberty of finding her, reuniting a family that had be separated for a good three years.  
  
Ash had liked it that way. With his mother here, things were... complicated.  
  
Though they had plenty of time to discuss it, neither wanted to bring up their last fight. Ash's father remained anonymous and his career path still absolute. They stayed safely out of arms reach of the other. Careful and polite, putting up nothing more than an image of a mother and son.  
  
He often thought she knew. She always seemed to see right through him. But she never pried. Never asked. And she let him go this morning.  
  
"Later," was the last thing she said to him. She brushed by him in the hallway, touched his shoulder and whispered the word.  
  
It haunted him still. As he knelt at his would-be resting place, he felt unwilling.  
  
Unwilling to make his mother a liar.  
  
What would happen to his pokemon?  
  
Charizard would have to be released. There'd be no managing him.  
  
Butterfree was docile enough to warm up to any new trainer. Even as a pet, she'd live a good life.  
  
Bulbasaur's fate would rest with Professor Oak and the living capacity of his lab.  
  
While Squirtle would probably be willed to Cerulean gym.  
  
Pidgeot could return to his flock without a moment's notice.  
  
And Pikachu... well. Pikachu would just have to make do. Just like his mother. And Misty. And Gary and Brock and Richie and Tracey... They'd just have to live without him.  
  
Because he couldn't bear to live anymore.  
  
He dropped the bouquet in front of him, and reached for the handle of his murder weapon. Hoping that it wouldn't hurt and that it'd be quick.  
  
"You're him, aren't you?"  
  
Ash froze, the gun nozzle pressed hard against his temple. Ash had hoped that he himself had magicked the voice up inside his head. That it was just a painful recording- the voice of his victim hanging thinly on the air like his ashes spread across the ground.  
  
But it wasn't William's voice. It was a woman's voice.  
  
"I work as a nurse back in Kanto," the bodiless voice continued. "I know for the most part how hospitals work. Even if they wouldn't release your identity to us, there was only person's name on that roster I knew. That... Will knew..."  
  
Ash let his hand fall. He found it odd that he could listen the sobs so calmly. And that each word didn't send pierces of guilt into his chest. Instead of wallowing in the woman's presence, he found himself peeking back at her.  
  
She had William's deep blue hair, that washed long and straight down to the small of her back. She was dressed in a long casual skirt with a heavy wool sweater pulled overtop. Dark tights led into short flat sole boots, and she kept her hands hidden inside tight gloves. She wore black as if on purpose, and not for the unsuspected passing of her son.  
  
And she was younger than Ash would have suspected.  
  
In a way, she looked like his own mother- though he fought to push to their likeness away. It was hard enough facing the mother of his victim, much less being reminded that his own mother might soon be wearing the funeral black as well.  
  
She soiled her gloves with her tears. As he watched, Ash began to realize that he hadn't cried, not once. Instead he took comfort in planning his own death. Tears were too commonplace for the guilt that he bore. Perhaps he had simply forgotten to shed them?  
  
"You're Ash Ketchum, right?" She shouted, as if she had to force the accusation through her tears. "Of course you are. Or else why would you be here?"  
  
She paused, wringing her hands together. "Here. Here on this godforsaken piece of shit of a place where you murdered my son."  
  
Ash lowered his head and said nothing.  
  
"You know, he loved you. You- you were all he ever talked about."  
  
"I know."  
  
William's mother swallowed her tears, and buried her face into her hands again. Ash returned to his feet, reluctantly facing her.  
  
He was taller than she was. And that fact made Ash feel all the more exposed. As if standing in the middle of nowhere with her alone wasn't enough.  
  
He hadn't been able to apologize to William. But to her, the words came more easily.  
  
"I'd trade places with him in an instant."  
  
She stared at him, her eyes unkind. "I don't believe you."  
  
Ash glanced back where the pistol lay in the dirt. Her eyes followed. She didn't seem surprised to see the gun, only solemn.  
  
"I didn't come here to say I was sorry."  
  
"You think... that by killing yourself, I'd find it in my heart to forgive you?"  
  
"I don't expect you to."  
  
Ash was startled to see fury sweep across her features.  
  
"Damn you. _Damn_ you," she seethed.  
  
She pointed a noxious finger to his face, backing him to the edge of the crater. "How dare you think so little of him! How dare you think so little of me!"  
  
Before Ash could react, she had grabbed his gun off the ground. She snapped out the cartage, and pitched both objects as far as she could. Bullets scattered through the air. They littered the ground around them.  
  
Despite that it only took one, they were standing in a shallow sea of bullets. And Ash felt oddly ashamed.  
  
Kicking what she could of the remaining bullets into the ditch, she spat, "You're alive. I would give anything if it were the other way around. But it isn't. And there's no use trying to make things change that can't."  
  
Through tears, she weakly scoured out the rest of Ash's weapon, making sure to keep it far away from him. But her fury had ebbed. Now it was merely a task to keep her busy. To keep her from meeting Ash's eye.  
  
He could tell, she was normally a timid woman. Her rash behavior had embarrassed her, despite her merit to it. William's death had eaten her away inside, but yet Ash could still cause her pain.  
  
Without warning, Ash buckled. Whatever wall he had fortified around his emotions was solidified by the comfort that he would never have to face them. Death would steal away his responsibility. But now, with the threat of suicide removed, the wall came down.  
  
And it came down with such force, that Ash lost himself within it.  
  
He wept violently, scarcely giving himself time to breath. Convulsing through his grief, Ash felt as though surely- he'd never be able to stop.  
  
"I want to die. Please. Please _let_ me die."  
  
His tears dried hers. But she was not consoled.  
  
"I can't," she answered dully. "More than anything else, Will wants... wanted to be a pokemon master."  
  
Ash managed to swallow his tears, just for a moment. Her eyes were cold upon him.  
  
"I hate you. But  you live for him now," She said. "Become the pokemon master, Mr. Ketchum. So I can find a reason not to hate you anymore."  
  
That was how she left him. Horrified and desolate in her wake.  
  
  
To Be Continued... **  
**Please Read and Review! **  
**


	2. Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Pika pi... How much further?' Pikachu moaned, knowing only all too well that Ash wouldn't understand.   
> Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Ash sighed. "Hang in there, buddy. I'm pretty sure that Celadon is around here somewhere. And once we find it, we'll get cleaned up, have a nice big dinner, and finally get to sleep in a bed... with warm sheets."   
> Pikachu smiled wryly. 'You're oddly optimistic. Maybe we should look around for a local to save, so that they'll feed us in return.'

Just a boy   
Just an ordinary boy  
But he was looking to the sky.   
-Vanessa Carlton  
  
 **I** t had been a day and a half since their last meal. Ash had scraped the last cold beans from the can- knowing full well that their funds had been depleted two cans before.   
  
He had underestimated their cross-country trek. It had taken them two more weeks than expected to get back to Kanto. Nearly three months to get back to his home country. Granted the boat ride would have taken him no more than a week. But a week coupled by seasickness and the ever watchful eye of his mother.   
  
He decided to cross by land rather than by boat. Even if it were a roundabout and asinine way to travel from Hoenn to Kanto. Besides, the long journey gave him much needed time.  
  
Time to consider his path in life now. Time to get comfortable with the reality of settling down. And time to wait out the suspension on his pokemon license.   
  
And he hadn't told pikachu about how he spent that day when he was first released from the hospital . Hadn't even come close to. It was a bit disappointing how easy it was to keep such a huge secret from his best friend. He had tried to kill himself. And he had made a painful promise to William's mother to live... not only to live but to become a pokemon master.   
  
But it wasn't the same. To become a master now... when he couldn't even accept duels from second rate trainers? He was too afraid that he might hurt someone again. Even when his suspension was up, Ash didn't think he could ever again participate in a pokemon battle.   
  
The lack of activity had made his pokemon team restless. And dully, Ash noted that some would have to released. The quiet life would not suit well with many of them. But Ash didn't want to think about the coming goodbyes. Or the life would have to find himself in his young retirement. That he might have to return to school, a place he had always dreaded as a child. Or that he'd have to go back to living with his mother.  
  
Pikachu, his right hand man or pokemon as it were, deserved to know all this. But Ash couldn't bring himself to tell. He needed Pikachu, more than ever now, to be on his side.  
  
Ash's stomach growled and once again he was forced to ignore it.  
  
They could have just plucked some vegetation from around them. There was always some sort of fruit or herb poking out from behind tree roots. But with only a limited knowledge of wildlife survival skills, he couldn't differentiate the poisonous from the nutritious. And he wasn't yet willing to forfeit his life for a full stomach.   
  
But Pikachu was coming pretty close to opting for the latter.   
  
Draped lethargically over his usual perch, Ash's shoulder, Pikachu was growing steadily more impatient. He knew for sure what Oran berries looked like. Apples too. He had seen neither on their path. Pikachu was coming pretty close to just tossing his fate into the hands of the next berry bush they passed.   
  
' _Pika pi... How much further?_ ' Pikachu moaned, knowing only all too well that Ash wouldn't understand.   
  
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Ash sighed. "Hang in there, buddy. I'm pretty sure that Celadon is around here somewhere. And once we find it, we'll get cleaned up, have a nice big dinner, and finally get to sleep in a bed... with warm sheets."   
  
Pikachu smiled wryly. ' _You're oddly optimistic. Maybe we should look around for a local to save, so that they'll feed us in return._ '  
  
Ash paused. The forest had been thinning around them for awhile. A hopeful sign that they were reaching the safe harbors of a city. But their path was sloping downwards, weaving between and around large chunks of limestone. Ash leaned against the rock wall behind him, fighting back a gnawing feeling that he had once again made a mistake in pinpointing their location. Had they traveled too far north and were now hitting the mountain range of Mt. Moon?   
  
_Ugh. That'd mean that we have an even longer walk back to Pallet than I originally thought._  
  
Pikachu perked up, ears twitching with the light breeze. ' _I hear people._ '  
  
Noting Pikachu's reaction, Ash cautiously made his way further down the path. Then he climbed out beyond the path, over thick boulders, and out towards the sky that peeked through the thinning trees.   
  
He reached a ledge. And much to Ash and Pikachu's surprise, the view opened out to both sky and water. A large lake, enclosed by the mountain range he and pikachu had been crawling through, spread out beneath them.   
  
And at the center of the lake stood a tall island that bore the largest building Ash had ever seen. He fought the urge to point Dexter at it, to find out what it was. But there really couldn't be any mistaking it.   
  
He had never seen it before. But with its spires and turrets, Ash was sure he was looking down at Kanto's only remaining castle.   
  
"Cameron. Wow... we overshot Pallet by quite a lot."   
  
Pikachu ignored his master's troubling admission. He had known that they were lost. But now it seemed that they were found, momentarily. Pikachu paid his master's loss in thought no mind. Though it looked different from other towns, Pikachu was still sure that they'd have food there.  
  
He eyed the limestone bridge that led from the mountain range into the center of the island. Of roman architecture, it was made long and large- practically fitting an entire village in the span of its pathway. The bridge was a bit of a walk from where they were now, but if Pikachu kept Ash and his bad sense of direction in check- he reckoned they'd make it to the island just before nightfall.   
  
' _Alright_ ,' said Pikachu, leaping off of Ash's shoulder and landing lightly behind his trainer. ' _Keep up with me, Pika pi. I don't know about you, but I'm getting some food._ '   
  


* * *

  
**"N** o, Pikachu. That's not yours," said Ash, snatching the broken loaf of bread out of his pokemon's paws.   
  
Yet again, he had to face yet another street vendor that Pikachu had wronged. Sheepishly, Ash handed the somewhat mangled and obviously no longer sellable bread to the man behind the cart. The vendor'ss raised eyebrows seemed to say everything his mouth didn't speak.   
  
_Can't you control your pokemon?_  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's gotten into him today," Ash apologized.  
  
' _It's not what's in me. It's what's not in me,_ " grumbled Pikachu bitterly. He licked his paws of whatever crumbs he might still manage to find. But still it wasn't enough to sedate his raging hunger.   
  
"He's not usually this bad."   
  
"He seems hungry," replied the vendor.   
  
"Well yes. But we can't afford anything right now, sir..." Before Ash could finish speaking, the man had offered up the loaf of bread that Ash had just returned to him.   
  
"Oh no, sir. We're fine."   
  
"Take it. Might save some other vendor's merchandise from the little rat," He tossed the loaf back into Ash's hands. "Besides, I aint gonna be able to sell that anymore."   
  
Ash flushed a bright scarlet. Shamefaced, he quickly turned about and rushed the opposite way.   
  
Pikachu leapt up on his shoulder innocently. Ash had to resist the urge to push the bread into its face.   
  
"I can't believe you," he muttered under his breath, handing the bread off to the little pokemon.   
  
Pikachu was too busy savoring the warm bread to reply. Not that Ash needed one. He wouldn't have understood the pokemon's defense, even if he could muster any.  
  
"He called you a rat. Doesn't that bother you?"  
  
' _Not really_ ,' said Pikachu through a mouthful.   
  
"We're not beggars. There was no need for that."   
  
' _Speak for yourself_.'  
  
Ash sighed. He was glad that the crowds were so thick today. It was easy enough to lose themselves in the mesh of people.   
  
His mother had told him stories about Cameron before, but nothing specific. A few of their old myths here and there. A postcard she had from a friend who visited. And a beautiful porcelain doll, all dressed up in lacy yellow gown, with chocolate locks and a painted face made behind the palace walls.   
  
He had knocked that doll off his mother's nightstand when he was eight years old. His playful somersaults across the mattress turned quickly into an evening to trying to stick the doll's hand back on with Elmer's glue.   
  
His mother hadn't been as mad as he dreaded she would be. Instead, she seemed amused by his desperate and rather messy attempt to fix it. While washing the dried glue from his hands, face and hair- she told him about the castle on the lake. About how a hero from long ago had rescued the kingdom from destruction. This was back in a time where the thought of being a hero was a mere pleasant daydream. And the task of rescuing a doomed world hadn't sounded so hard.  
  
 _Do you think we're royalty, Mom?_ He had asked, while she playfully rustled his hair dry with the towel. _In disguise, I mean?_  
  
Though he was old enough now to know that she was just toying with him. Back then, her deliberate pause and smiled response of _maybe_ , had had Ash convinced that he was a forsaken prince. A _heroic_ forsaken prince.   
  
For at least a week or so, until Gary started teasing him of being a heroic _princess_ rather than his desired title of prince.   
  
Though he was still a fair distance from the palace gates, it had, so far, lived up to his childhood expectations. The fashion in Cameron mirrored that of his old adventure stories with the knight, the princess and the Charizard. Many people who passed him by wore billowy capes, fancy laced up tunics and long fancy ball gowns. He admired the variety and colors of the people who passed him by, feeling like a very obvious outsider.   
  
People were playing carnival games, shooting crossbows, throwing knifes. Ash and Pikachu looked up in wonder as the family of stilt walkers ambled by them. There were so many wonderful sights and smells that Ash wished he could participate in it. If only he had a few dollars left on him... He'd love to try some of the funnel cake.   
  
It was like his childhood dream had come to life!   
  
"I can't believe how magical this place feels, Pikachu. Like we've been dropped through time!"   
  
"It's all for Sir Aaron."   
  
Ash was given a start. There was a short bald man by his elbow, scanning the crowd with an admiration that had near equal to his own. His silver beard trimmed his face neatly. He wore a long light brown tunic and leggings but with strapping boots and a sword at his hip. Ash eyed the weapon nervously, wondering if it were just for show.   
  
"Sir who?"   
  
"Sir Aaron. Young lord of Badinshire," At Ash and Pikachu's blank look he added, "You may know him as the Hero of the Wave."  
  
"You mean _the hero_... the one who saved Cameron kingdom back then?" said Ash. The possible mention of his childhood idol had captured his interest. Pikachu, however, was too preoccupied with his last soft morsels of bread.  
  
"Yes. This festival is held annually in his honor. For without his noble sacrifice, we would not be here now."   
  
"Sacrifice?" Ash felt the pit fall in his stomach. "You mean... he died?"   
  
The old man gave Ash a funny look. Then his face broke into a smile that Ash felt made him look like a kind grandfather.   
  
"You're not from around here, are you?"   
  
"No. I thought..." Ash trailed off, feeling ashamed of his childhood projection of the hero. "I thought he lived happily ever after."   
  
The old man frowned not unkindly. "Rarely do we get happy endings in life." At Ash's solemn look, he quickly added, "But Sir Aaron's tale is not all sad. He left a great legacy behind. And his death prevented a tragic war..."   
  
Ash suddenly felt a surge of something, rush through his brain. As if a circuit had just been completed, sending a rush of blinding information from one part of his closed mind to the other. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Dots danced in front of his eyes. His heart felt as though it had gotten stuck against his ribs. It took a deep breath to rid himself of the crippling feeling.   
  
When his eyes finally focused again, the old man was holding him up by his arm. Pikachu had finished his lunch and was staring at him with concern mirroring that of the old man.   
  
"Boy? Are you aright?"   
  
"I am... It was just something you said. I felt sick all of the sudden."   
  
"Sunstroke. How long have you been in the sun?"   
  
"Not long," said Ash dully. "But I am thirsty."   
  
"Well, let's get you some food and water. We can't have you passing out before the pokemon competition."   
  
Ash let himself be led by the old man through the crowds. His mind was still fuzzy with the shock of the old man's words. _His death prevented a tragic war._ Why had the sentence seemed to make his head spin?   
  
The old man said it was sun stroke. Probably. Coupled with exhaustion and hunger, the old man could make a good case of it. But yet the words still chased themselves around in his mind.   
  
He felt he was on the verge of remembering something. Something important.  
  
So wrapped up in his thoughts, Ash hadn't even noticed that the old man had led him through the palace gates.   
  
Nor had he noticed when the guards on post at either side, gave a mindful salute.   
  
But Pikachu had. And he was both elated at their fortunate turn of events and worried about what karma might make it cost them.   
  


* * *

  
**T** he water was sweet. Ash drank down a large glass greedily having to be reminded twice to take it easy.  
  
The old man had sat him in a rather uncomfortable chair made of wood that felt about ready to give way. He hadn't noticed at first, but suddenly there were many more people around than just the old timer. There were several women both young and old and few surly looking boys who peeked at him from between the gaps in the small crowd.   
  
Though Pikachu had shown concern at first, when it came to watching Ash eat or drink- Pikachu wasn't exactly a fan. Instead, he started into a dish of mashed fruit and veggies that one of the cooks had laid out for him. It tasted so much better than cold beans but not as great as the warm bread.   
  
The old man took Ash's glass when he had downed it, giving instructions to several other woman who were about. He realized, slowly, that he was sitting in an open kitchen. A fully functioning kitchen too by the looks of the many hands wandering about.   
  
A large woman with a friendly face, handed Ash a heaping plate of meat and potatoes. Ash barely managed to muscle out a thank you before digging in. She seemed much more pleased with his ravenous appetite than she was with his thanks.   
  
When he reached back for his glass of water, he started to realize just how very strange all of this was. Many of the people standing around, staring could have easily been written off as concerned passer-bys. But the others, they gawked at him like he had a third eye.   
  
Ash paused, the lip of the glass still in his mouth. He watched the people through the bottom of his glass- wondering just what on earth they were staring at.   
  
The old man seemed to notice Ash's sudden hesitation. When Ash swallowed the last sip of water, he asked, "Where'd you say you were from?"  
  
"Oh uh," Ash glanced about the small crowd. "I'm from here. Kanto I mean. Pallet Town, actually."   
  
"I see. A native," He straightened and motioned for the rest of the crowd to disperse. They did so reluctantly, a few still lingering long enough to catch a bit more of their conversation.   
  
"I must apologize for them. You have such stunningly dark hair, young man. And you're a trainer. It's a bit unusual... for these parts. They can't help their curiosity."   
  
"How is that unusual?" Ash frowned. "It's not like I have green hair or something."   
  
The old man laughed. "Yes, I guess not. Black hair isn't all that uncommon."   
  
Ash waited until they were virtually alone in the kitchen. He could do little about the cooks as worked their way through a dinner and dessert course. The large woman, who appeared to be the head cook, spared him a wink when he glanced her way.   
  
"Why were all those people staring at me though? I mean..."   
  
"Please don't mind them. They get worked up over misplaced silverware," said the man. "You are a trainer, are you not?"   
  
Ash tried not to notice that the old man had changed the subject again. He stared down at Pikachu who was licking his bowl clean with the utmost precision.   
  
Technically he was, a trainer. The courts had ruled the case against him an act of manslaughter. It was a matter of negligence on his part for being ill equipped to handle Charizard's new attack. He had issued the attack but had done so with the intent to win the battle and not to murder. He was irresponsible for teaching such a reckless move to his pokemon and then foolish for testing it out on William.   
  
But he wasn't a killer.   
  
So his license to train, battle and capture pokemon had been suspended for three months. He still had two more weeks of his sentence to abide by.   
  
But he had to defend himself from wild pokemon on his way back to Kanto. While he declined battles from passerby trainers, he could do little to prevent Team Rocket from breaking his suspension.   
  
So technically he was. But the real question remained, did he want to stay one?   
  
"I am," said Ash reluctantly.   
  
"Then of course you'll be wanting to enter our pokemon competition."   
  
"Your what?"  
  
"The winner will be dubbed as this year's guardian of the wave."   
  
"Um, okay but-"   
  
"There will be a cash prize. And it is the insistence of Lady Aileen that all competitors be her honored guests in the palace. A room and board will be provided for you."   
  
"But I... I'm not-"   
  
Pikachu tugged on Ash's pant leg and gave Ash a vigorous nod. Ash sighed. He didn't want to fight in a pokemon competition. Much less be subject to more uncomfortably friendly treatment.   
  
But if he wanted to get back home, he needed money. And right now, this competition seemed like the best option.   
  
"You're going to get spoiled rotten here, Pikachu."   
  
Pikachu just grinned.   
  
"Then it's settled," The old man laughed slapping Ash's back. "Tonight you'll stay in the palace, and tomorrow you'll fight in our annual pokemon competition. No pressure meant, but I'm going to put my money on you."   
  
"Uh thanks, I guess," said Ash weakly.  
  
"Don't worry. I'll send someone to help you pick out your outfit for tomorrow."  
  
"My outfit..."   
  
"Sonia, do you think you can take care of the boy here? Show him to his room?" The old man asked, addressing the head cook.   
  
"Of course, your highness." The head cook, Sonia, bowed her head.   
  
Ash froze, gripping the armrest of the chair suddenly very tight. "Highness?"   
  
"Oh yes," The old man smiled. "Didn't I say? My name is Roman. And currently I am, how you would say, Lord of this castle."   
  
' _Figures_ ,' said Pikachu wryly.   
  
  
To Be Continued...  
Please Read and Review!


	3. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have a Pidgeot,” said Sonia.  
> Ash hadn’t noticed that she had come up behind him. She looked frayed, touching her heart with her hand.  
> “Um, yeah.”  
> “You have a Pidgeot. And you have dark hair and you are a pokemon trainer.”  
> “Yes and...?”  
> Sonia took a deep breath and straightened her composure. “You’re just like.. um... oh! Just like Dylan is all! Dylan had a Pidgeot!”  
> Ash raised an eyebrow, “Did he...?”  
> She laughed. But with such force that Ash was almost certain that she was lying to him. Roman changed the subject. The other gawkers wouldn’t speak. And Sonia was forced to lie.  
> Just what exactly was so special about a black haired pokemon trainer with a Pidgeot?

****I think you hide  
And you don't have to tell me why  
You cry a little, so do I, so do I  
-Florence + The Machine

 **A** sh followed behind Sonia in a daze. Pikachu was in his arms, dozing after the large satisfying dinner. Both were exhausted from the day’s events. But Ash was more bothered than tired by his seemingly unconscious manner of running into the King of Cameron Castle. In his own defense, Roman had dressed the plainest of his citizens. There was no way that Ash could have known of Roman’s importance.

To Ash, Roman was just your friendly old village storyteller. He didn’t fit so neatly into the stereotypes of a King like say King Arthur. For one, Roman was older than Ash would have suspected. And he was bald. Though Ash supposed that being bald could be considered regal.

They wandered into an open aired corridor that opened out into a starry night sky. It had grown dark fast since Ash had been lead into the palace’s kitchens. Ash paused, leaning against the railing as he stared out at the sky. The courtyard gardens below were painted an eerie silver in the moonlight. The night air was brisk carrying with it the warm smell of burning wood. The whole island felt timeless. Plucked right out of his childhood daydreams.

“You doing alright, little one?” said Sonia, holding the candle out between them so that she could see Ash’s face. “You aren’t still feeling sick, are ya?”

“No. I’m fine,” He smiled up at her. “Thank you for showing me to my room. I know you probably have better things to do.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, dearie. I’m merely the overseer. Most everything can be handled without me breathing down their necks.”

They stood a moment in silence. Ash observed the moon, cradling pikachu in his arms. It was hard to believe he was standing in a place where his childhood hero might have stood once too.

“I’ll have to apologize for our Highness,” Sonia said, drawing Ash’s attention away again. “He’s not quite what you expected, is he?”

“He’s not,” Ash admitted. “But I’m kinda glad. If it weren’t for him and his daughter I would be sleeping outside again tonight.”

“The ancestors of Cameron fully understood the importance of celebrating our pokemon trainers. They set up the tournament and festival every year to give thanks to Sir Aaron, one of the few trainers of the time,” said Sonia.

“Sir Aaron was a pokemon trainer?”

“Why yes, of course,” said Sonia. “He is most infamously known for his partnership with a pokemon known as Lucario. They were invariably close. Much like you and your pikachu.”

“Oh. Then what happened to Lucario... when he... um.”

“I afraid that Lucario vanished. Lady Lynn, who transcribed the tragic events, was never able to find the pokemon.”  

Ash frowned and held pikachu tighter. Not too long ago, he almost left pikachu alone. For a much less noble cause than Aaron too.

“But in regards to Lord Roman,” continued Sonia, briskly changing the subject. “He married into the family and he’s never used to be... fully tolerant all of the traditions. Giving respect to trainers was easy. He loves to gamble on pokemon battles. Everything else however... Lord Roman only ever seemed to reliant to appease Lady Amelia, God bless her soul.”

“What do you mean, fully tolerant?”

“He dislikes the attention. And the fancy garb. And as a King of Cameron- you get a lot of  fancy garb and attention.”

“I can understand that,” said Ash.

They sat in silence for a moment enjoying the pleasant hum autumn evening. Until Sonia finally spoke up, “You know, you remind me a tad bit of my son when he was yer age. I could always tell when something was bothering him too.”

Ash couldn’t hide his smile. “My mother always said that I wore my heart on my sleeve.”

“So what is bothering you... Oh heavens. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Ash.”

“What a nice name. My son’s name’s Dylan.”

“That’s a nice name too,” He paused, stroking Pikachu absentmindedly. Sonia was still staring at him, patiently waiting for his answer. Ash knew he’d have to surrender it. “I guess, it’s that I’m trying to decide... if I should quit being a pokemon trainer.”

“Hm. And is there anything in particular that lead you to this decision, Ash?”

“A lot of things... bad things. I love my pokemon and training but... I can’t.... I mean, I wanted to be a pokemon master once.”

“Not anymore?”

“I don’t know.”

Sonia smiled softly. She said, “This don’t sound like a question Sonia can answer, I’m afraid. Sounds like only Mister Ash can decide that.”

Ash sighed, “Yeah.”

“I’ll tells you what. How’s about you come check out the battle arena. Give it a run around with yer pokemon. Get your mind of things for awhile. It might cheer you up.”

Ash gave it some thought. It would be nice to get the advantage of knowing the terrain he’d be dealing with. It might not be enough to tip the scale in his favor, but every little bit might help. And his pokemon did need the exercise. There was little time to break and stretch while they traveled through the woods. His pokemon deserved a moment’s rest outside the confines of their pokeballs.

“I guess so. I guess, that sounds good.”

 

* * *

James leaned out of the basket, staring absentmindedly down at the forest that trailed beneath them. After another unsuccessful bout with Ash, it took them two weeks to scramble the supplies together and repair the damages impacted on their only means of transportation. Both Jessie and Meowth had forced him to fork up one of his most precious bottle caps for the cause. An odd act of karma as it were, but it didn’t make James any less bitter about it.  

He wasn’t supposed to be on lookout duty. But Meowth had long since fallen asleep and James hadn’t wanted to wake either of his teammates. He just figured, since he was awake anyway, he might as well take over.

Ash was still nowhere to be seen. Several weeks ago, Ash had lost them in a similar fashion. For a good long time too. Long enough that it made the team nervous whenever they lost him anytime since. Team Rocket had to circle about, wondering if they had gone too far ahead of him or if they themselves were lagging behind. They had come close to calling in. The boss would have been hard to face. He wouldn’t have approved of their failure. And unfortunately, they had to resort to asking around for the twerp and his pikachu too- little good it did them. Consorting with citizens was frowned upon- in case anything they were looking for ended in a bad way.

When they finally found Ash, he was heading nearly the complete opposite direction he had before. And driven by such urgency that he stopped for little rest, if any at all. In the first few days they started tailing him, Ash had forced himself to the point of utter collapse. A state of being that put his pikachu practically up for grabs.

It was the perfect time to attack. And yet, James felt... reluctant to partake of the opportunity. It seemed cruel, not that Team Rocket was very well known for any niceties. His other team members were all too eager to snatch pikachu from the weary trainer. They did not share his ill placed compassion. Heaven knew Ash himself never spared a second thought for Team Rocket’s own well being.

But James did kind of care. To jump him at that moment seemed like kicking a growlithe when it was down. Pointless. Why fight something that can’t fight back?

And it was the manner of Ash’s behavior that bothered James. As if Ash were desperately trying to escape something. He was pushing himself so hard to keep going and to leave whatever it was behind him. James was afraid to interfere. What if it was one of those things that the boy so often attracted? Did they really want to caught in the crossfire between the Chosen One and some new threat to the world.

So maybe James did purposively foul up the plan. He still hadn’t felt that he deserved to lose precious bottle caps. It was good deed, not a bad one. Or so he thought. James hadn’t even done it with thought of reward, so a punishment felt rather unfair to him.

But even if Ash never knew how James had helped, dismantling the claw hand and making sure the balloon’s patches were hastily sewn, at least his own conscience had been cleared. And perhaps it was for the best that Ash did not know. James was sure both Jessie and Meowth would skin him alive for his sabotage. And if the boss found out... well he could certainly kiss his “blossoming” career goodbye.

Thankfully, he only needed to save Ash once. After that time, the chance slipped away. Ash slowed his pace and began behaving normally again- even if his destination hadn’t changed.

James heard some rustling from beside him, and looked over in time to see Jessie squinting back at him from beneath the folds of her blanket.

“James? What are you doing up? Wasn’t it’s Meowth’s turn for...”

James just shrugged. His gaze drifting back outside the balloon basket.

“It’s freezing out,” Jessie hissed through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you come sit back down?”

“It’s fine. I’m not cold.”

“Well then. Do you see anything?”

James shook his head slowly. “Nope. Not even a town that he might have gone to.”

Jessie pulled her blanket tighter around herself. “What is he doing back this way anyhow? Kanto... I thought the point was to travel all over the place and what not.”

“He’s probably just going home. To visit his mom...” said James.

Jessie smirked. “Do you want to visit your mom?”

James gave off a visible shudder. “Please don’t mention them,” he said.

Jessie just chuckled. She sat up straighter and peeked out over the rim of the basket.

“Where are we anyway?” She said.

“That’s just it. We’re a bit too far north than the route he was originally traveling. A little bit of a ways up past Pewter. I’ve never come this far north so...”

“Oh. We might be coming up on Cameron Palace.”

“Cameron Palace... what’s that?”

Jessie scowled at James. “Don’t tell me you never heard of the infamous Cameron Palace? It’s just about the biggest tourist attraction in Kanto ever. You were rich before, James. Surely you traveled in these types of circles. You probably even know the King and Queen.”

“To be honest, I never really cared that much.”

Jessie was about to saw something more, but suddenly fog began spilling over the basket. She gasped and sat up suddenly, the blanket pooling at her feet.

“James! The fog-“

“Don’t worry. This happened before. It will pass.”

She could barely see him now. His voice only wafting from the space in front of her. She reached forward and grabbed on tightly to what she supposed was his arm. They waited, staring out into the thick churning whiteness around them.

And then, Jessie saw it. Shooting out of the dense fog as if it had just been dropped in their path. A low mountain peak.  

Jessie screamed, scrambled backwards and pulled down hard on the chain, opening the blast valve. The surge of heat threw their balloon into an updraft. They were tossed violently to one side, nearly throwing James out of the basket. His grip on the metal pillars that tethered the balloon to the basket had saved his life. They had managed to avoid crashing into the top, but the winds had thrown them in such a way that they scraped across it instead.

A hole opened up in the center of their basket, just near where Meowth had been resting. At the noise and the sudden jerk, Meowth had woken- having just enough sense to scramble away from the gaping hole.

“What da hell are yah doing!” shrieked the cat pokemon, plastering himself to the opposite side of the basket.

“We have to land,” said James urgently. “The wind might tear the basket up more.”

“Where?”

“There!” shouted Jessie, pointing down beneath them.

James glanced over the basket. The fog had dissipated once they cleared the mountain range. And James was surprised to see a castle, beneath them, seemingly perched in the center of the lake. Jessie’s Cameron palace, no doubt. There were only a few courtyards. It would be a tight squeeze for their balloon. The castle appeared asleep for the evening, but they had little choice. A crash landing in the water could be fatal. Especially if they wanted to save their newly restocked supplies.

And James didn’t want his precious “billy toad mudkip” soda pop top’s sacrifice to have been all for naught.

“It will have to do!”  
  


* * *

Ash ducked through the arches feeling for all the world that he were back completing in the Indigo league tournament. It was a justified feeling. The artisans who created that colossal stadium took inspiration from Cameron Castle architecture. This was a pokemon stadium a hundred years in the making.

Ash walked to the center of the stadium looking up at the vast number of seats lining the arched walls. The field itself too was several yards across. Making Ash feel incredibly small. Impressed but small.

“Wow. This is incredible.”

“Isn’t though?” replied Sonia from the battle drawn sideline. “Lady Lynn’s and Sir Aaron’s only son started construction on the stadium when his mother passed away. Back then it was used as a training ground, and the annual battles started to be held here instead of in the village.”

“It’s wonderful.”

Sonia smiled, “I thought you’d like it. Dylan did too.”

“Is Dylan a pokemon trainer?”

“He was. Very much so. But he’s a father now. Still practices in his free time, when he can. I believe they live in Saffron now. Or Celadon. I get the big cities confused. Very much a country girl, myself.”

Ash looked up, his eyes trailing to the center balcony which was covered by a thick orange curtain. Banners were slung over the railings, a few in the colors of the castle’s crest and the center one with Cameron’s royal family coat of arms in view.

“That’s where Lord Roman and Lady Aileen will sit tomorrow to observe the competition,” said Sonia, noticing his stare.

I guess the next time I’ll see Roman is on that balcony, thought Ash. He kinda liked the old man. A bit eccentric for a king of a small country but still an interesting guy to get to know. I wonder what his daughter looks like...

Ash made his way back to the chalked in boundary lines, observing the lengths carefully. It didn’t appear that the stadium put too much distance between the trainer and his pokemon. But the roar of the audience might deafen crucial orders. He could only hope that his pokemon remembered to look for his hand signals.

Ash tickled the sleeping pokemon he was carrying under the chin and said, “Hey buddy. Wake up. Wanna train with the rest of us?”

Pikachu opened one eye and groaned. Ash chose to take his answer as an affirmation and gently lowered his partner to the ground. There, Pikachu stretched out, still sending Ash bitter looks.

Ash then reached for his pokeballs, releasing a few of the pokemon at a time. He hesitated with Charizard. He had holed up Charizard in its pokeball for awhile now, too afraid to battle or train with him anymore. Charizard had seemed a bit annoyed but, so far, hadn’t held it against him. Ash wasn’t sure if he could risk that attack being used again. And if Charizard’s competitive nature got the best of him... Ash didn’t want to think about the consequences.

He was lucky to even be able to keep Charizard as they, his accusers, had talked about putting the pokemon down. When they realized it was more Ash’s fault than the pokemon, they wanted to release Charizard or at the very least give him to a more responsible trainer. It was only the fear of unleashing a Pokemon with its godlike move on unexpected trainers that kept them from releasing him. And no self respected trainer wanted to try and handle such a dangerous Pokemon themselves. They very reluctantly gave custody back to Ash on the condition that if the move was ever used again for whatever reason, Ash would face jail time.

Ultimately, Ash decided that he didn’t have to train with Charizard. But at the least, he should let the pokemon get some fresh air with the rest of them.

Charizard arrived forming from the red light with a loud triumphant roar. Ash flinched at the sound, but tried not to let the other pokemon see. They were all too busy talking amongst themselves to notice their trainer’s hesitation.

 _‘Hey, what’s going on?_ _’_ Bulbasaur asked, glancing around- his eyes settling upon Pikachu. Since Ash couldn’t speak pokemon, Pikachu was seen as the second in command when it came to what the master wanted.

 _‘Pika pi wants us all to train for the tournament tomorrow_ _,’_ yawned Pikachu.

 _‘That’s bad. Not good_ _,’_ said Pidgeot ruffling his feathers. _‘I smell danger on the wind.’_

The rest of the pokemon, save for Charizard who never really conversed with the smaller lot anyway, visibly slumped at Pidgeot’s proclamation. Butterfree simply drifted her way towards Pikachu, in attempt to escape the doom and gloom talk.

 _‘You always smell danger on the wind_ _,’_ said Squirtle, rolling his eyes.

_‘It’s strong today. If our master were to compete in this tournament, I am certain we will all be in grave danger.’_

_‘And last time, when Master was eating a tuna sandwich you said you smelt poison on it. Master ate it and was fine_ _,'_ said Bulbasaur.

_‘It was only a little poison. If he had chewed more slowly, it may have killed him.’_

_‘You’d be so happy if Ash dropped dead right now, wouldn’t you?_ _’_ said Squirtle.

“You have a Pidgeot,” said Sonia.

Ash hadn’t noticed that she had come up behind him. She looked frayed, touching her heart with her hand.

“Um, yeah.”

“You have a Pidgeot. And you have dark hair and you are a pokemon trainer.”

“Yes and...?”

Sonia took a deep breath and straightened her composure. “You’re just like.. um... oh! Just like Dylan is all! Dylan had a Pidgeot!”

Ash raised an eyebrow, “Did he...?”

She laughed. But with such force that Ash was almost certain that she was lying to him. Roman changed the subject. The other gawkers wouldn’t speak. And Sonia was forced to lie.

Just what exactly was so special about a black haired pokemon trainer with a Pidgeot?  

Suddenly screams ripped through the air. There was a loud commotion coming from what appeared to be the courtyard over. Both Ash and Sonia looked in the direction of the noise.

“Good heavens. I hope that’s not Lady Aileen again,” Sonia sighed.

“You really think the princess is behind that?” asked Ash- startled by the grim look overtook Sonia’s face.

“You don’t know our Lady Aileen.”

* * *

**A** sh followed Sonia into the courtyard clearing with his pokemon in hot pursuit. He made a last minute decision to return his larger pokemon before running towards the sound of the commotion. If it turned out that he needed Pidgeot or Charizard in the coming situation he would let them free again... or at least he might let Pidgeot out. Letting Charizard out around potential targets still unnerved Ash.

The scene before him was probably the last he’d expect.

Ash spotted the remains of the cat balloon first. It was in shreds- parts draped down from the over hangings and strewn across the courtyard. He could see the fabric painted with Meowth’s smile caught on a low garden wall and one painted Meowth eye waving from where it hung from a gargoyle. An empty basket was hanging upside down from an arch, where underneath a small crowd had formed.

A lump formed hard in Ash’s throat. _No._

“Oh? I wonder what’s happened-” Sonia began, faltering as Ash suddenly rushed past her.

Ash ran clear across the courtyard and into the crowd. He caught broken and muddled conversations of “where’d... come from?” and “you think... alive?”.  He pushed his way through the gawkers, almost falling in face first when they cleared the path easier than he expected. And the sight of their fallen bodies only elevated Ash’s rising panic.

All three were unconscious... or perhaps worse. The crowd had formed an effective wall around them but beyond that no one had been willing to approach their comatose forms. There was one teenage boy in cargos and an oversized teeshirt who had been trying to shake Jessie awake to little affect. Ash knew enough about first aid to know that the vigorous shakes weren’t a good idea.

“Don’t shake her!” Ash shouted, effectively stopping the young man in mid-shake. “She’s injured, you idiot.”

He dropped down next to James first. He was face up, his half-opened eyes looking eerie in the low light. There was blood running down his face from a deep gash up by his hairline. The blood stood out plainly against his pale skin. Ash held his breath as he felt James’ neck for a pulse. It was there, lightly thudding against his fingertips. And when leaning over to check, Ash could hear him breathing.

That was good. If James needed CPR, Ash wasn’t sure how he would have gone about it. Despite the fact that Ash knew next to nothing about the actual process, Ash was sure that even if he had the act of giving CPR to another man would just be... unappetizing.

“He’s alive. But he needs medical attention,” Ash announced to the watching crowd. “Is there anyone here that’s a doctor?”  

The crowd muttered amongst themselves but no one volunteered.

Sonia had joined the boy who had been shaking Jessie. Unlike the teenager, Sonia seemed to understand at least as much about first aid, if not more than Ash. After checking Jessie, much the same way Ash had looked over James, she caught Ash’s eye and said, “This woman’s fine. But she’s out cold. Perhaps we should take them into the castle. There is a med staff on standby for the tournament.”

“Is it safe to move them?”

Sonia gave both Jessie and James prone forms a once over. “Probably not. We will have to send someone to fetch them.”

While Sonia tried to relay instructions to the teenage boy at her side, Ash spied that his pokemon had come to Meowth’s aid. The pokemon was mostly unresponsive to their efforts, but he did mew and moan occasionally. It was more than could be said for his comatose masters.

Seeing Team Rocket in this state was almost surreal. Their ability to bounce back from any number of pokemon attacks made them appear immortal. To realize that they could bleed after all. That they could get this hurt...

Ash looked back down at James’ pale face, fighting back the bile-like guilt rising in the back of his throat. It was all his fault that they were here. Wasn’t it his pikachu that they were always after? If he had gone back to Pallet like he was supposed to, this might never have happened to them.

And at the same time, their very appearance could ruin everything.

Ash knew full well that they weren’t in town for any innocent reasons. They were either planning on stealing his or the competitors’ pokemon. He also knew that they would eventually try to make a grab at either sometime in the future.

That and Team Rocket knew. They knew he had no right to be entering pokemon tournaments. They might not have know what the circumstances were, but they were well aware that his license had been suspended. They used it to their advantage, hoping that it might prevent Ash from fighting back.

Though if Ash hadn’t told them, hoping it might deter them from chasing him anymore, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

He felt awful for even worrying about his secret with the trio in this state. But fears had a habit of cropping up even at the most inappropriate of times. Even now, looking down at James’ unconscious form, Ash couldn’t help but despise the fact that Team Rocket had once again forced him between a rock and a hard place.  

“Hold on,” said Ash under his breath. “You’ll be fine.”

Ash wasn’t sure he was talking more to James than to himself.   

* * *

**W** hen James came to, there was an old bald man standing over him.

“Are you alright?” The old man asked.

James jerked himself up. He looked around wildly, surprised to see he wasn’t in the wreckage of the hot air balloon but was instead inside a room. A very lavishly furnished room. He was laying in four poster on top of red velvet curtains. And the walls were adorned with beautiful tapestries and paintings. If not for the fact that he didn’t recognize any of the artwork nor the man, he would have assumed he were back home.

“Where am I? Where’s Jessie... and Meowth?”

“The young lady and pokemon with you? Oh, they came to a few hours before you did. Right now, they’re down in the galleries having breakfast with the rest of the pokemon trainers.”

James remembered now. They had come down too fast and hit one of the overhanging arches. This time unfortunately, James had been thrown from the basket. Luckily the ground was a lot closer than it had been before. The only long term injury he suffered was a mild headache.

“Pokemon trainers?” James repeated dully, rubbing his sore head.

“Yes. For the tournament. Your vessel had to make an emergency landing and you wound up here at our castle. Your friend explained everything. He actually was quite worried. Tuckered himself out.”

“My… friend…”

There was a sudden knock at the door. The bald man smiled and immediately hurried to let the person at the door in. James almost had a heart attack at the sight of Ash Ketchum in the doorway.

“Ah yes. He’s awake now, Mr. Ketchum. I’ll just… leave you two. Do try to encourage him to join in the competition too.”

Ash smiled and nodded to the man who ducked his way back out of the room. But the instant he was gone, so went the smile on Ash’s face. That was okay. James didn’t much feel like smiling himself.

The young man, who was only a head shorter than James himself now, was oddly intimidating when he wanted to be. He said nothing, only helped himself to a bedside chair, straddling it backwards and resting his crossed arms and chin over the head rest. And there he sat, staring at the Team Rocket member helplessly trussed up in bed and blankets.

“So… you followed me,” Ash began nonchalantly.

“We always follow you,” James couldn’t help but chuckle. “Part of the shtick, right? Where’s Pikachu?”

“Safe, from you.”

“We aren’t going to steal him in a… mansion?”

“Castle.”

“Castle, whatever. Castle full of pokemon trainers. We aren’t that stupid.” Ash’s simpering smile caused James to scoff. “We _aren’t_.”

Ash sighed, getting up from the chair. He spun it back to the front but didn’t sit back down. Instead, he stared down hard at the seat, as if trying to sort through something in his head.

When at last he spoke, his tone was even and measured. But James knew enough about the fifteen-year-old to know that this was Ash at his angriest. He _really_ didn’t want them here.

“I’m entering the pokemon tournament here in Cameron. The one being held this afternoon,” He looked up and met James’ eye. There was a threat there, daring him to speak.

“You… Your license was suspended,” said James at length, realization dawning on him.

“So here’s the deal. You and your teammates don’t mention… that. And I’ll continue to cover for your presence here. Free food. Soft beds to sleep in. I’m sure it’s been a long time since you’ve enjoyed that, right? I’m pretty sure Team Rocket doesn’t pay well when you continue to fail on the same mission for five years.”

“We are salary based.”

Ash cocked an eyebrow and James couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yeah, well. We’ve had our pay docked several times.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right, you wouldn’t. Of course,” James flustered, clearing his throat. “So mum’s the word on the whole… license suspension so you can play trainer for a few hours. And you won’t warn everyone that you invited a bunch of pokemon thieves to the party. I have to say, Ash, this goes south? You stand to lose a lot more than we do.”

“If you say anything, hurt anyone, if I even catch you staring too long at another trainer’s pokemon- it won’t be Pikachu blasting you off, _James_.” Ash was dangerously close now. James sunk as far back into the bed as he could go, unnerved that the twerp had ever bothered to remember their names. “I’ll use Charizard.”

And with that, Ash left the room. The click the door made at his exit was more startling than a door slam.

“Geezus,” James breathed. “When did the twerp get that scary?”

 

To Be Continued…  
Please Read + Review!


	4. Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Look at all of the beautiful gowns! It’s like a dream!” Jessie exclaimed, brushing past the other two in her eagerness to reach the clothing racks. She stopped dead at seeing Ash glowering at her from the other side of the rack.  
> “Oh wow, Twerp,” Jessie smirked, eying him up and down. “Very dapper. Nice choice.”  
> “Get out,” Ash groaned, trying to hide his embarrassed blush behind his hand.  
> “Can’t. Sorry, Twerp,” She playfully tipped his hat over his face. “We need to wear costumes too. If anything, you need to leave. I can’t get dressed with little boys peeping on me.”

**Chapter Four** : Dress Up  
  
There's only two types of people in the world  
The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe  
-Britney Spears  
  


“You’re barely touching your cereal, James,” Jessie made a point of this fact by reaching over to swipe a bite with her own spoon. She grinned at him and James pushed the bowl over to her. She didn’t question the free food, per usual. But Meowth was looking at him strangely.

“Yer talk with da twerp bother ya dat much, James?”

“You guys didn’t talk to him,” grumbled James. Why was he the only one who was bothering to keep his voice down? The hall was packed full of chattering trainers, with poke belts loaded with powerful pokemon. They might as well have been eating breakfast in a fishbowl of ravenous sharpedos. But his team members were perfectly content to count off their good fortune.

Although he had relayed Ash’s warning, neither Jessie nor Meowth had quite taken it to heart. And why would they? They had crash landed into a golden opportunity for any pokemon thief; anonymity and an abundance of loot. Only a great fool would walk away.

“We should wait till the tournament is finished,” said James, wiping the smiles from his teammates’ faces.

Jessie pointed her spoon accusatorily at James’ face. “We already talked about this. That’s stupid. You’re stupid,” She went back to digging in his bowl of corn flakes, content that she had sufficiently made her point. And usually, she would have.

“Jessie’s right. Dat dere tournament is the best chance we have at getting our mitts on a butt load of pokemon. With everyone distracted, we can get away scot free. Why would we wait till it’s over?”

Once again, James had to shush Meowth. A talking Meowth was enough of a novelty that he made heads turn in a room at the best of times. In moments like this, before a heist, he was a terrible inconvenience. Both Jessie and James could disappear from people’s memory once they were gone. But a talking pokemon, no one would forget that.

James eyed the nearby trainers for any wandering eyes. Thankfully they were still absorbed in their own conversations. Tension was high in the air, with the majority of the room planning to take part in the competition. While the room was full of pleasant chatter, James could see how they were eyeing each other; sizing their competition up, trying to glean some strategy from their peers without slipping up and giving too much information about themselves away. Shame for them- what with the twerp entering, they didn’t stand a chance.

No one was looking their way. James let out the breath he had been holding. “Because,” he said. “Ash told us not to.”

Meowth laughed a little too loudly. Jessie was less pleased. “Since when have we started taking orders from the twerp?”

“Since he covered for us,” James hissed. “We wouldn’t be here if he had just told everyone who we were. But he lied.”

“So he’s stupid,” Jessie shrugged and shoveled more corn flakes into her mouth. “His loss.”

“Come on, Jess,” said James. “Have a little heart. He did us a favor. Least we could do is do one back. There will be other chances to steal pokemon.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say dat youse were going soft for da twerp.”

Both Meowth and Jessie were looking at him now. James shifted uncomfortably under their accusatory stares.

“We’re the bad guys, James,” said Jessie softly, taking his hand in her own. “We don’t do favors.”

James gave her hand a squeeze but couldn’t meet her eye. “Why not?”

“Because we are the bad guys!”

“Really?” James laughed. “Cause last I checked, we really suck at that.”

James stood up, knocking the bench back and nearly bumping Meowth off his seat. He pulled his hand from Jessie’s and gave both his team members his best “I’m-serious” face. He was a bit out of practice though. The frown felt a bit wilted- more defeated.

“We aren’t stealing any pokemon. Let’s just enjoy the festival, okay?”

And with that, James left. Jessie and Meowth watched him go in bafflement.

“Did James just shut us down?”

“I dink so. Weird.”

Jessie frowned but returned to her empty bowl. If they weren’t going to steal any pokemon, then she was going to get seconds.

 

* * *

King Roman hadn’t been joking about the outfit requirement. Ash was less than thrilled when the staff led him to one of the costume galleries in the castle. It seemed they rented out outfits year round- but during the competition, the costumes became mandatory.  
  
“If you need any help with dressing, you need but call,” said the dignified man holding the door.

“Th-that won’t be necessary,” sputtered Ash, perhaps a bit too hastily. He suspected the man knew so too, as he closed the door behind Ash with a knowing smile. This wasn’t as simple as tee shirt and jeans. These costumes had laces, buckles and even codpieces- something Ash only vaguely understood how to wear. At least he knew enough to know he didn’t want anyone helping him wear one.

Ash walked along the clothing rack, letting his hand run over the intense variety of fabrics. From canvas, cotton to silks and satin, Ash had no idea where to even start. This was way outside his comfort zone.

“What should I wear, Pikachu?”

Pikachu tottered along at Ash’s feet, showing far less interest in the range of costumes than his master. Having had his fill of both dinner and breakfast, the pokemon was content now just to explore the odd limestone encased establishment they had found themselves in. The floor was pleasingly cool despite the summer heat blaring down outside the walls. He found a comfortable bit of floor out of range of the clothing racks to curl up into, ignoring Ash’s question. Ash watched him wander off with some disapproval.

“Some help you are, Pikachu.”

Pikachu’s ears twitched in response. But he didn’t get up. Ash sighed and returned to the doublets and jerkins with some reluctance. If he were a few years younger, he would have immediately jumped on the opportunity to dress up. When he was a kid, he loved everyone looking at him. The more goofy the get-up the better. Oh and capes, he loved those. It made him feel like a superhero.

And if Misty were at his side, he would have wanted to impress her. Only the most heroic looking outfit would have sufficed; a cape and a feathered cap would have been essential. Something that would have made her stop seeing him as the goofy kid brother for just a little while.

Ash couldn’t help the smile that had crept across his lips. It was as fleeting as the memory of her, abandoning him back in front of the intimidating racks of costumes. He wasn’t ten years old anymore. Dressing up now just felt embarrassing. He didn’t want anyone looking at him, depending on him. He had no one to impress. And he didn’t want to be anyone’s hero.

Ash’s hand reached instinctively towards a tricorn hat that was feathered in the back. It was rather dusty and somewhat trampled on. Perhaps it hadn’t gotten as much attention as some of the more colorful headpieces. He pat off the dust as best he could before straightening on top of his head.

With a big false bravado, Ash turned towards his napping pokemon. “Ta dah!”

Pikachu squinted open one eye and snorted.

“Always the critic,” Ash said. But he didn’t return the hat. Even without Pikachu’s approval, Ash felt like he could make something work from a hat like this as his base.

He pulled a few doublets from the rack just to toss them aside if they had too much flourish or pattern. Ash eventually settled on an ivory shirt and blue jerkin combo that had been stuffed in the back. It wasn’t too hard to find matching breeches though he did scramble to find boots to fit his oversized feet. It was one thing trying on shoes. Each boot he sampled, Ash had to cram his feet into and lace up before he could tell if it was cutting off circulation to his toes or not.

After having properly hopped about in the pair of cured leather navy boots he had settled on, Ash stripped off his modern shirt to trade it for one of laces and buckles. He had only grabbed the cotton shirt off the chair he had laid it on when the whole castle shook.

Team Rocket, Ash thought. He rushed around his slumbering pokemon and to the open window, just as something swung inside. Ash lurched backwards into the racks of clothing, just avoiding the young blonde who had awkwardly landed in front of him.

She was covered in soot and grime, gripping a makeshift rope of bedsheets- obviously strung together in duress. For the amount of agility it must have taken to swing down from the floor above, she was wearing clothing that would have done little to help the cause. Her clothes were overly large and heavy overalls with a grungy looking work shirt. The woman rose to her feet, pigtails bouncing. She pushed back the goggles from her sweaty face and treated Ash with a bright disarming smile.

“Hi.”

“Uh… Hi?”

“Sorry about that. Had to abandon ship, as it were. My carbontinker exploded,” She gestured to the open window where sure enough, smoke was puttering out into the sky. Ash looked between the young woman and the window uncertainly, still gripping his shirt tight to his naked chest.

“Uh… what?”

“Should be fine. It will burn itself out,” She blinked as if just realizing what room she had swung herself into. Her eyes roamed the racks before settling back upon the half-naked young man in front of them. “Oh! You must be a pokemon trainer, right?”

Pikachu was awake now. Ash spied his pokemon looking at the intruding woman with some alarm. But he didn’t abandon his post, instead just sharing a baffled look with his trainer.

The woman spotted the pokemon and melted into the appropriate level of adoration. “Oh! A Pikachu! She’s so cute!”

“He,” said Ash automatically.

“He,” She corrected herself with a stiff nod. “And a very handsome one too.” She tickled the pokemon beneath his chin instantly winning him over. Pikachu cooed at her and Ash scoffed in disapproval. Pikachu was always a sucker for a pretty face.

And then the pretty face returned its attention back to him. Ash used the shirt as a shield to ward off her approach.

“So you’re entering the pokemon competition?”

“Um… yeah,” Ash swallowed, fighting back the furious blush burning at his cheeks.

“Ohhhh! That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to join myself!” She continued to be too close. She had backed Ash into the opposite wall now, completely heedless of the discomfort she was causing him.

“Then why don’t you?” Ash grumbled.

She smiled at him and Ash ducked behind the shirt again.

“My dad won’t let me,” She sighed. She turned to wistfully look out the window giving Ash just enough time to quickly shove the shirt over his head. “I wanted to go on my own pokemon journey. But now… I’m afraid I’m too old.”

“How old are you… if you don’t mind me asking?” Ash asked, ducking around her to reach the chair where the rest of his abandoned clothes laid.

She laughed, unnerving Ash further. He hastily busied himself with his jerkin to avoid looking at her. Apparently he was a sucker for a pretty face now too. Ash just hoped he wasn’t turning into Brock.

“I’m seventeen. How old are you?”

“Fif-fifteen.” Ash stumbled with the laces. He was quite alarmed when the strange girl had pulled the laces from his hands. And with an expert grace, she quickly weaved the string through the holes.

“See,” She smiled, giving the laces one last firm tug before neatly tying them up. “I’m too old.”

“You’re not too old,” Ash squeaked, sure he must be red as a cherry now. He spoke without thinking, perhaps in just a desperate pitiful attempt to get her to smile at him again. Maybe he really was becoming just like Brock.

“You’re not too old,” Ash said again, pulling away from her now that he was appropriately attired. “You can start pokemon training whenever you want. Age doesn’t mean anything.”

He got what he was hoping for. She smiled at him again and Ash felt like his cheeks were going to burn off his face. He hadn’t been this bothered by a girl since he had kissed Misty. And maybe that was it. Her cute short pigtails and smudged face with baggy clothes, reminded him of the scruffy red-head.

“Hm,” She gave him a once-over. “Something’s missing.”

Ash helpfully tried to fetch the hat he had claimed before. But the girl had returned to the racks, flipping through with a no-how that Ash himself had lacked. She wasn’t just browsing, she was looking for something in particular.

And then she found it, pulling out a dusky looking cape. “All heroes need a cape.”

Ash couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped from his lips. It seemed he was destined to dress the hero after all. As he took the hanger from her, she pushed something else into his hands.

“These too,” She said with a knowing smile.

Ash looked down at the curiously ornate gloves she had handed him. They were inlaid with gold and a strange opal-like crystal. Ash instantly disliked them.

“I don’t want-”

“Trust me,” She said, pushing the gloves back on him. “They go well.”

Ash frowned down at the gaudy handwear but begrudgingly pulled them on. Once he had swung on the cape, she clapped in approval. Even Pikachu was beaming at him from his place by the window.

“Oh! It looks great! You wear it well,” she exclaimed.

Ash felt oddly self-conscious. He tugged down on his hat. “What’s ‘it’? The hat?”

“The hero’s costume.”

Ash blinked and the girl continued on undaunted. “It’s actually rare that anyone would want to wear it. It’s cursed after all.”

“Cursed?”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. I’ll tell you about it after you win.”

Ash had to resist the urge to pry the outfit off again. Except he was afraid he wouldn’t know how. He felt better wrapped up than a birthday present. How on earth did people in the past manage to get dressed like this every day on their own?

“Oh, this is so exciting,” She giggled, bouncing up and down on her toes. “I can’t wait to see you battle this afternoon… um...”

“Ash.”

“Ash,” She smiled again and Ash felt his heart melt a bit more. For some reason, hearing her say his name, shot a punch of warmth straight through him.

“I’m Aileen.”

Ash almost fell over. Instead he just knocked backwards into the chair behind him. “Aileen… as in Princes-”

“Yup,” She grinned even wider. Aileen climbed back up on the window sill, yanking free her makeshift rope. She offered him one last wink, “Good luck in the competition, Ash.”

And with that, she had swung back out. Both Ash and Pikachu lunged for the windowsill, watching anxiously as the princess, (Princess!) swung her way down to the floor window two stories down. Once she was safe inside, Pikachu gave his trainer a smirk.

“You _would_ pick the cursed outfit.”

Ash didn’t need to understand to not like that look. “Shut up, Pikachu.”

* * *

 

Ash had stuffed his clothes into a cubby in the far corner of the room where several trainers had already come and gone. He added his sneakers to the mess of other sneakers already lining the floor, feeling very odd. It was like he was a time traveler, shedding his future clothes for those of the time period.  
  
Thankfully time traveling was actually one thing he hadn’t ever experienced. And hopefully it wasn’t possible or else he would run into a pokemon who could do it.

“Ah wait. Celebi,” Ash said to himself. “Never mind.”

Although technically he hadn’t been the time traveler at that time. So maybe he could count it.

As Ash pondered through his extensive experience of the extraordinary, Pikachu had happened upon something rather extraordinary himself. He had been minding his own business when he felt a sudden tug on his tail.

Pikachu spun about, cheeks sparking dangerously, eying the only hiding place behind him. The heavy window drapes that hung low to the floor swayed softly in the summer air. A small yellow head with large ears peeped out at him. A pichu, and an obnoxious one at that. No amount of familial empathy would improve Pikachu’s mood.

“Hi there!”

“Don’t ‘hi there’ me!” Pikachu snapped. “You grabbed my tail.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t leave it unguarded,” chirped the cheeky pichu. It ducked behind the drapes and when Pikachu lunged after it, it had gone. Pikachu whirled about on the spot and then poked his head back under the drapes uncertainly. No, it was definitely gone. Where did it go?

“Lose something?”

Pikachu looked up startled, drapes still cloaked over his head. On the window sill crouched a Treecko lizard, where there hadn’t been one before. It licked its yellow eyeball at Pikachu, causing the mouse to shudder. Not able to fully look at the disgusting reptile, Pikachu directed his question to the lizard’s feet.

“Where did you come from?”

“Nowhere. Where’d you come from?”

“Pallet Town.”

“Sounds boring.”

“So does nowhere,” Pikachu snapped.

“Nowhere is better than Nowhere Pallet Town,” Treecko flicked his tongue out at Pikachu giving him the distinct feeling that he had already been talking to his pokemon somewhere before. Before Pikachu could really get a handle of the odd feeling, Treecko had already dropped itself out the window.

Pikachu leapt up onto the window sill, watching as the rude lizard crawled away up the castle walls.

“Catch you on the flip side, Nowhere Pallet Town scrub!” Treecko called back to him. Pikachu made a rude gesture back that he quickly hid as his trainer wandered up.

“Who you talking to, Pikachu?” Ash asked, looking curiously out the window, too late to see the Treecko shimmy up the roof.

“Some loser,” Pikachu shrugged, acting more nonchalant than he felt. There was something odd about both rude pokemon he had just met. Was it just a coincidence that both Treecko and Pichu wanted to mess with him? Or did he just have one of those faces?

“We are gonna need to get you a costume too, I think,” Ash said more to himself than to Pikachu. His pokemon blanched just the same.

“Hey, I didn’t agree to that!”

“Don’t give me that look. You were the one who wanted me to enter this stupid competition,” Ash shot back, heading back over to an assortment of pokemon sized costumes. “If I have to wear a stupid outfit,” He grinned rather evilly while holding up something that looked like a pink tutu. “So do you, little buddy.”

Thankfully, the door opened- interrupting whatever torture Ash could commence with. And the three least appetizing people wandered in, cementing Ash’s sour expression.

“Look at all of the beautiful gowns! It’s like a dream!” Jessie exclaimed, brushing past the other two in her eagerness to reach the clothing racks. She stopped dead at seeing Ash glowering at her from the other side of the rack.

“Oh wow, Twerp,” Jessie smirked, eying him up and down. “Very dapper. Nice choice.”

“Get out,” Ash groaned, trying to hide his embarrassed blush behind his hand.

“Can’t. Sorry, Twerp,” She playfully tipped his hat over his face. “We need to wear costumes too. If anything, you need to leave. I can’t get dressed with little boys peeping on me.”

Ash clumsily straightened his hat and made a disgusted face that Jessie ignored. She had already happily set herself to the task of finding the perfect outfit. James and Meowth entered the room with far less enthusiasm. As Meowth started awkwardly shuffling through the pokemon costume rack, some costumes placed comfortably at his eye level- Ash rounded on James.

“You guys better not be thinking of this as a chance to grab extra disguises for yourselves.”

“Cool it, Ash. We made a deal,” said James, hand held up defensively just in case Ash decided to lunge for him again. “We aren’t up to anything sneaky.”

Jessie made a distinct “uh huh” sound from where she had dug into a pretty colorful menagerie of ball gowns. Despite her affirmation, she sounded far less sincere than James did. Ash cast James a look that the older man nearly quelled under.

“I mean it. No funny business.”

“Depends on what you mean by funny,” Meowth grumbled, holding up a pinstriped jester outfit to himself. “Dese outfits are terrible!”

Ash sighed and yanked the outfit from Meowth’s hands.

“Come on, Pikachu. Let’s get going.” Pikachu obediently leapt down from the windowsill and followed his trainer from the room. As he moved to close the door, he heard Jessie call out from the racks.

“Yes yes, goodbye Twerp. So long and good riddance.”

He shut the door just as Jessie’s squeals of delight reached a new fever pitch. “If only,” Ash muttered under his breath.

  
To Be Continued…  
Please Read and Review!


	5. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, no,” the smartly dressed man in an emblazoned purple tunic said as he intercepted Ash. “All competitors need to line up according to the time of their data entry, Mister…”  
> He trailed off, finally looking down at the fifteen-year-old in front of him. His eyes widened first and then he gave a frightened little yelp, leaping back from Ash as if the boy had just grew a second head. And now everyone was looking at them. Ash glared impatiently as the man rushed to compose himself.  
> “I know, I know. I look like Sir Aaron,” Ash whirled about on the spot, catching a bunch of guilty eyes quickly looking away. He threw out his arms in exasperation. “Go ahead and gawk now, okay. I don’t need a handicap to beat every single one of you!”  
> The guilty looks had quickly turned to those of contempt. Pikachu sighed from his master’s shoulder, “Great, Pikapi. You do remember that I’m the one who has to fight their pokemon. Make things harder for me, why don’t you?”

**Chapter Five** : Competition

They can never win  
But they sure can try  
Ooooh, I’m unbeatable.  
-David Kos Rolfe

It was hard to miss how everyone was looking at him. It was definitely significantly more gawking than before. Ash pulled his hat down lower over his eyes, hoping to trick himself with the old mantra that if he couldn’t see them, they couldn't see him. The walk to the battle stadium was far longer than he remembered it being. If not for Pikachu’s grumbling complaints distracting him, Ash might have been truly miserable.

Pikachu couldn’t walk straight with the booties on his feet. And the jester hat kept falling into his eyes. Ash had to carry his companion on his shoulder or Pikachu would surely have fallen down a step or walked into a wall. And his obvious fury at being forced to wear the costume only made Ash’s smile broader.

“You know if you were in your pokeball you wouldn’t have to wear a costume,” Ash said aloud, trying to ignore a few trainers who had pulled out their pokedexes to snap a picture of the passing boy.

“This isn’t historically accurate,” Pikachu spat through a mouthful of boot. He hadn’t been able to pry the footwear off, resorting to just sort of pitifully gumming one foot. “Lucario didn’t wear some ridiculous outfit.”

Pikachu had gestured up at the overhanging tapestry of a Knight and his Lucario. And Ash made the mistake of glancing up just before ducking through the doorway. Suddenly Ash saw what everyone else in the castle had been seeing. Ash stopped dead, gawking up at what could have been a reflection. There was only one man with a Lucario that would be featured so prominently throughout Cameron.

“Hey,” Pikachu released his own foot. “You look just like that Sir… Air guy. I wonder if that’s what the princess meant about cursed.”

“Shit.”

“Language, Pikapi!”

Ash looked down at his chosen outfit and then back up at the woven portraiture. The color, the fabric, the hat, even the gloves! His cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“I gotta change,” Ash grumbled, turning back up the stairs. Pikachu quickly grabbed his ear, painfully steering him back around.

“No time, Pikapi! You have to go to the opening ceremony!”

“Pikachu! OW! Let go!” He swat at his pokemon. “I can’t go out like this.”

“You can and you will,” Pikachu snapped. “If I have to go out like a poor man’s clown, you can stand looking like Sir what’s his face.”

It probably wasn’t Pikachu’s words that called him back. That he couldn’t understand a word the pokemon said aside, Pikachu’s words wouldn’t have been enough to convince Ash to walk into a stadium dressed like the hero he wasn’t. It was bad enough that he was breaking his probation by entering this competition. But entering while dressed like the reincarnation of the kingdom’s greatest savior, that was surely the kind of bold-faced hubris Ash didn’t want to play around with.

Ash wasn’t exactly sure what it was that kept him from running back up the way he had come. While flailing around with Pikachu, he made momentary eye contact with Sir Aaron’s eyes of thread and felt an odd sense of rightness. A weird tingly feeling that said he was supposed to wear this. That he needed to… for something to happen.

And then something did happen. Someone ran into him.

Ash was knocked completely off his feet. Pikachu tumbled safely onto the nearby floor runner. Ash, on the other hand, landed hard on his knees, looking up just as the person who had run into him marched smartly passed. It had to be another competitor, dressed as they were in a full suit of armor.

“Hey! That hurt!” Ash shouted.

The man in the armor didn’t even turn around. “Then watch where you’re going, little mouse.”

Ash watched from his fallen position as the man disappeared down the corridor. Disgust still on his face even as he climbed back to his feet.

“Little mouse?” Ash spat. He bent down, helping Pikachu back onto his shoulder. The little electric pokemon didn’t share his irritation however.

“Don’t look at me. I’m obviously a jester,” He chirped.

“Who the hell even wears a full suit of armor into a pokemon competition? You’d have to be dying in there. Not to mention, did you see his helm? The eye slot wasn’t nearly large enough. It would obscure his vision for sure,” Ash huffed, brushing the hair from his eyes as he stomped his way down the remainder of corridor. “What an idiot.”

“Looks badass though,” Pikachu offered unhelpfully.

Ash eventually came out of the corridor into an open hall full of other pokemon trainers. They were standing idly against the wall in single file, dressed in a colorful assortment of gowns, tunics and chain mail, and thankfully didn’t spare Ash a second glance. All were too busy counting their pokeballs, nervously chatting with one another, or biting their own nails. All save for one; the armored fiend from earlier who’s narrow eye slit was pointed directly in Ash’s direction.

Ash ignored him and tried to line up opposite of the man. But once he headed too far towards the end (beginning?) of the line, one of the attendants leapt out to stop him.

“No, no,” the smartly dressed man in an emblazoned purple tunic said as he intercepted Ash. “All competitors need to line up according to the time of their data entry, Mister…”

He trailed off, finally looking down at the fifteen-year-old in front of him. His eyes widened first and then he gave a frightened little yelp, leaping back from Ash as if the boy had just grew a second head. And now everyone was looking at them. Ash glared impatiently as the man rushed to compose himself.

“I know, I know. I look like Sir Aaron,” Ash whirled about on the spot, catching a bunch of guilty eyes quickly looking away. He threw out his arms in exasperation. “Go ahead and gawk now, okay. I don’t need a handicap to beat every single one of you!”

The guilty looks had quickly turned to those of contempt. Pikachu sighed from his master’s shoulder, “Great, Pikapi. You do remember that I’m the one who has to fight their pokemon. Make things harder for me, why don’t you?”

The attendant cleared his throat. “Ahem. What’s your name, pokemon trainer?”

“Ash. Ash Ketchum,” Ash answered grumpily.

“Sir Ketchum…”

“Ash will be fine.”

“Sir Ash,” The man was making a face that Ash didn’t appreciate. Probably thinking about how it was way too similar to Aaron yet again. But mercifully, the man didn’t comment on it. He unfurled a bit of showy gold trimmed parchment, eying the names scrawled upon it. Unrolling the scroll to its near end, the attendant found the name he was looking for.

“You’re our last entry, Sir Ash.”

“Great,” Ash muttered under his breath.

“That means you will be at the end of the line… and the first to fight.”

Ash let the attendant push him gently back in the direction he had come. And much to the boy’s dismay, lead him to his place in line right behind the armored man from before.

The attendant beamed, as if genuinely happy for completing the simple task of showing Ash his place in line. Ash couldn’t help the sour look he gave in return.

“You will enter the coliseum when you are announced. Then you will file up in order behind the other competitors for the King and Princess’ royal blessing. After the blessing, follow the other competitors into the competitors’ observatory, the um… front row of the ring, quite easy to spot- until your name is called for battle. Good luck, Sir Ash.” The man suddenly saluted with a grand flourish before placing his hand back over his heart. “The wave is with me.”

Ash stared back at the man in bewilderment, before noticing that the trainers around had all mimicked the action themselves. Far too delayed, Ash also placed his hand awkwardly over his heart. “R-right. Wave something something.”

“And also with me,” came the echoed reply from the man in armor.

Ash sent him a swift glare but the man was undeterred. Instead, he clapped the breast of his own armor plate and repeated more forcefully, “And also with me.”

“And also with me,” said Ash at last.

Seemingly satisfied, the attendant excused himself with one last bow returning to his place towards the front entrance of the coliseum. At his exit, Ash went back to glaring at the armored creep on his right.

“Thanks,” he said begrudgingly. “You’re still a jerk.”

“And you’re still a little mouse.”

Trumpets sounded from somewhere ahead, interrupting any sort of comeback Ash might have had. The line of pokemon trainers made their jerky anxious way forward. The armored guy threw his hand back in a casual backhand wave before following, “See you in the ring, little mouse.”

“I’m not a mouse! You’re the mouse!” Ash fumed after him. “You’re the mouse and I’m gonna squish you… like a mouse!”

“Good one,” Pikachu sighed from his shoulder.  
  
Ash didn’t need to speak pikachu to catch the sarcasm. “Shut up, Pikachu.”

* * *

 

He had to jog to catch up with the participants as they were called out onto the field. Each one’s exit preceded with loud adulation from the crowd. Ash was still so distracted by the armored guy’s comments that he missed the man’s name when it was called. Even after Ash made the mental note to listen for it. He was still mentally kicking himself as his own name was cried out.

“Sir Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town.”

Ash bolted to attention, looking helplessly around him for some direction. The attendant from before was nodding him on.

“Do I just…”

“Go!” The man hissed pushing Ash forward.

Ash stumbled, nearly knocking Pikachu from his perch. He fell into the sunlight, taking only a second to straighten his hat before continuing the rest of the way to the field. His heart was hammering against his ribs and he couldn’t hear anything beyond his own harried breath. But Ash could feel the stares that bore into him from the stadium seats above.

Ash marched stiffly to his place, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. Once he had taken his spot beside the armored knight, the roar in his ears started to subside. And in its place stood an odd uncomfortable silence.

Ash closed his eyes tight. “Please, please, don’t be looking at me,” Ash whispered under his breath.

He never did find out if they were. Because at the moment he dared to peek, the trumpets had sounded again. Ash started, and he wasn’t alone. The assembled pokemon trainers, all jittery and anxious for the coming fight, collectively jumped at the blaring sound that cut through the silence.

“Presenting his royal majesty, the illustrious ruler of Cameron Palace, King Roman and his beloved daughter, the yellow rose of Cameron, Crown Princess Aileen!” Came the shout from the royal crier, that Ash was shocked to see held no microphone nor amplifier. His voice was loud and booming, and carried well through the amphitheater even full as it was.

Even more surprising was the sight of the royal family entering into the viewing box that Lady Sonia had pointed out yesterday evening. Roman looked much as he had before, save for an extra sheen to his bald head and a magnificent crown cresting his brow. He also sported a luscious-looking red cape that he hadn’t before. He beamed and waved jovially out to the crowd, looking a bit unworthy for such finery. His smile was too broad and his waves far from dignified.

But Aileen. Ash didn’t even recognize the woman who had glided up on the King’s left-hand side. For one, her hair was no longer in the messy short pigtails. Instead, she had a curtain of silky golden curls cascading from neath a simple silver crown. Her face had been painted expertly to bring out the vivid color of her green eyes. Wearing a high-waisted lilac gown, Aileen had somehow transformed into the princess she was supposed to be in less than an hour.

Ash might have continued to doubt that the tomboy from before and the woman presiding over the crowd were the same person if her eyes hadn’t sought him out. She smiled at him and gave him a playful wink. Ash’s cheeks flushed. He quickly busied himself with readjusting his cape.

King Roman raised his hand for silence. It was a very kingly gesture and was rewarded in kind. “We are all gathered here again today,” Roman began. “For our annual pokemon competition meant to honor the great hero, Sir Aaron, who sacrificed his life hundreds of years ago to save our beloved Kingdom. Let us present a fierce competition of which the hero himself would have wanted to join in.”

“May our pokemon trainers today, do his memory proud by bringing their best to the battlefield,” Aileen continued. Both King and daughter made the same strange salute the attendant had done, before settling their hands above their hearts. The audience and pokemon trainers all hastily followed suit; Ash included.

“The wave is with me,” Aileen cried.

“And also with me,” chimed the assembled crowd in a quiet rumble. Ash only half heartedly repeated, feeling quite silly. What in the world was the wave? Like water? Was Cameron a water pokemon region like Cerulean?

“This wave cult stuff is really starting to creep me out,” mumbled Pikachu, finally spitting out the offending extracted bootie. It fell unnoticed to the ground in front of them.

“Let the pokemon competition begin!” 

* * *

 

It had been several months since Ash had stood within the chalked in boundaries of a pokemon battlefield. Even longer since he had an audience this large watching his every move. Certainly not since the Johto league, so two years at least. All the work he had been doing since then in the minor leagues was devoted to training and exploring new regions. Though his eventual goal was to take on the Indigo Plateau for the penultimate title of Pokemon Master and Indigo League Champion, he didn’t relish in moments like this. They were the most frightening aspects of being a trainer. Your mistakes and failures being on full display for a large audience. Ash had already experienced a painful loss in front of hundreds before, and every time he stepped out into tournaments like this, he re-experienced it.

Ash walked back onto the field feeling eyes boring down on him. The other trainer, dressed in a standard talbard of cream and white, had gotten a smattering of applause upon crossing the field. Ash, however, had gotten nothing but hissed whispers. He tried not to take it personally.

It’s just the stupid costume, Ash told himself. Nothing else. They don’t know about Will.

There was nothing similar between his current opponent and the boy whose ashes he had left in a burning pit. This opponent was stocky with a bit of a goate forming on his chin. He had to be several years senior to Ash himself. But still, there was a flash where Ash was back there. He could see William clear as day, all smiles, flushed; eyes bright and excited for the coming fight. Ash couldn’t let himself feel the same excitement he used to. That was a different life and those feelings were dead now. Just like William.

His hands were shaking too badly for him to grab a pokeball. It took a gentle touch from Pikachu to bring him back. The casual brush to his cheek and the yellow pokemon counting out breaths for Ash’s benefit.

Ash followed the pokemon’s lead, evening out his breaths and slowing the alarmingly quick beat of his heart. He chased Will away from his mind. Instead he focused in on the movements of his trainer; watching silently as the man tossed out a Breloom as his first and only pokemon.

Each fight was to be a one on one match. However, Ash could switch between pokemon between matches, should he wish. This was mostly intended to keep pokemon fresh between battles and leave an element of strategy for the trainers. Usually, Ash would have stuck with Pikachu through every round. Pikachu was a powerhouse and unless specifically matched against a rock type, he could handle anything that was thrown at him.

But Breloom was a grass type, as evidenced by the green tint to its skin and fungal growth on its head. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue but Ash didn’t want to wear his star pokemon down in their first match. They needed to last until the finals. There would be no Nurse Joy to heal his pokemon during the breaks.

So if not Pikachu. Then…

Ash hesitated his hand over the obvious choice. Fire beats grass. It was an easy choice and his pokemon would make quick work of Breloom. But Ash couldn’t bare to touch its pokeball. His mouth had gone dry and the tremor was back. Before he could bear to force his hand down, Ash quickly, and with some desperation, snatched up the pokeball next to it.

“Pidgeot, go!”

If Ash thought the reaction from the crowd before had been unnerving, that was nothing compared to now. The instant Pidgeot had launched itself out of the red light, a collective gasp went out among the audience. Many audience goers fell from their seats or leapt to their feet. Even the King was on his feet, staring down at Ash with some surprise. Only Princess Aileen seemed unmoved.

She was still leaning against the armrest, cheek on her hand. Still seated in the shorter throne, Princess Aileen was idly watching. When Ash’s eyes met her own, she gave him a coy smile- as if she alone foresaw this choice.

“What? What?” Ash cried out, as alarmed by their reaction as they had been by his pokemon.

“The sky is much too blue. It is clearly a poor day to battle, master,” kreened the bird pokemon with a flap of its giant wings. “The assembled humans must sense this too.”

“It must be another Sir Air thing,” said Pikachu, ignoring Pidgeot.

Ash quickly scoured his memory for anything of the old childhood fairytale he could remember. Some sort of hint to explain their overblown reaction. His eyes fell upon Pidgeot before slowly moving back up to the face of his opponent; who looked almost as confused about the audience’s reaction as Ash was. Almost.

It was clearly Pidgeot then. Hadn’t Sonia reacted to Pidgeot as well?

“Did Sir Aaron have a Pidgeot?” Ash called out to the opposing trainer.

The other trainer shrugged. He must have been from outside of Cameron like Ash was. Like most of the pokemon trainers probably were.

Pidgeot ruffled his feathers haughtily. Having heard the fuss made over his entrance and the subsequent explanation for it, he seemed to take it upon himself to live up to the outcry.

“If I am to be assumed a great hero’s pokemon, master,” Pidgeot let out a fierce cry. “Then I shall not disappoint!”

“A-an interesting choice for Sir Ash, pitting a Pidgeot against Breloom. It will be an uphill battle for Pidgeot to deal with the painful type disadvantage,” the crier before shouted out for the benefit of the shell-shocked crowd.

“Type disadvantage?” Ash repeated dully.

“Breloom is a grass fighting pokemon,” his opponent called back with a mean smile. “Thanks for giving this battle to me. I’ll be sure to mention you in my victory speech.”

“Don’t count my pokemon out so fast.” The retort came as natural as breathing. Ash didn’t even have time to feel guilty for enjoying the banter. The battle was on.

Ash swung out his arm, commanding his pokemon to the skies before Breloom could strike him down with high kick. The Breloom struck nothing but dirt. Pidgeot, now with the upward advantage, twisted about in the air and latched its talons tight about the Breloom’s shoulders. With two swift flaps of its wings, Pidgeot had lifted the pokemon cruelly into the sky.

A pokemon battle; this was the one thing Ash excelled at. How could he have forgotten?

“Pidgeot, body slam!”

Several yards above the ground, Pidgeot released the squirming pokemon from his iron-clad grip. To his opponent's credit, he wasn’t content to just let his pokemon fall. He shouted up an order of razor leaf which Pidgeot, unfortunately, took on directly. Dropping through the sharp leaves, Pidgeot swung about and slammed hard into the falling pokemon- launching it towards the ground at even more neck breaking speed.

Breloom hit the ground in a puff of dirt and flying leaves. Ash pumped the air with his fist. It worked far better than he thought it would. Even out of practice, his pokemon were still exceptionally strong.

But then, for one heart-stopping minute, nothing moved. In a half second, his moment of victory had chilled. Ash found himself holding his breath. When at last the cloud had parted, Breloom was there; unconscious but, thankfully, breathing.

Ash sagged with relief. The match was called in his favor and a happy roar rose up from the crowd. He had won his first battle since William. And no one had died. The blue skies could never have been more beautiful.

Feeling lightheaded, Ash almost forgot to return Pidgeot. The large bird had touched down on the sidelines, preening with satisfaction and the overflowing adulation from the audience. As he returned his pokemon, Ash could hear shouts of his name alongside those of Sir Aaron, a sound that set uneasily with him.

“His name is Pikapi,” Pikachu shouted back unhelpfully when he overheard the misspoken name.

Ash wandered off the field to make way for the next combatants, feeling a little less terrified but somehow more guilty than ever. He didn’t pay attention to any of the other combatants who had offered congratulations, keeping his hat brim low and trying to rush to a corner where no one would notice him. Pikachu had a hard time keeping pace with Ash’s longer strides, even with the booties discarded. He sprinted to keep up with this trainer, leaping up the boy’s back and collapsing on his shoulder perch with a huff.

“You could have waited,” Pikachu grumbled.

Ash said nothing, not even bothering to pretend that he understood Pikachu. He found a seat pressed awkwardly behind a pillar where no one bothered to sit. He could just see the match if he craned his head far to the side and no one would pester him here. Pikachu settled down comfortably on the bench beside him. But instead of watching the match, Ash put his head between his knees.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Ash whispered, holding his head and twisting what hair peeked out from beneath his broad hat. “I enjoyed it. I’m not supposed to enjoy it.”

Pikachu stared down at his trainer sadly. The pokemon gently pawed at the boy’s leg until Ash noticed him. Then, without a word, Pikachu laid his head on the boy’s thigh. Ash scratched his pokemon behind the ears, holding back tears.

“Am I bad person, Pikachu?” Ash choked out.   
Pikachu closed his eyes and cooed softly, soothing his grieving trainer. They stayed like that for awhile, boy and his pokemon. Ash continued to run his hands over Pikachu’s soft fur, shutting away the world around him. And just how Pikachu had taught him, Ash continued to count his breaths. One, two. Push William away. Three, four. Not now. Five, six. Breathing now. Seven, Eight. Dealing later.

And Ash was lurched out of his counting by a sudden overly friendly arm draped over his shoulders.

“Not bad, twerp,” came a soft sensuous reply. “Little sloppy but you pulled it off.”

Ash quickly shrugged off Jessie’s embrace, rubbing ferociously at the ear she had whispered into. He shuddered as he whirled about to face the offending trio who had taken up post on the bench behind him.

“Don’t touch me!” Ash snarled.

Usually, Pikachu would have snapped to attention as well. But today, Pikachu just wasn’t feeling it. They were on a truce and Pikachu knew even if they broke it; it was Team Rocket that would regret it. So Pikachu didn’t bother with the indignation his master had shown and simple shot the trio a mild glare.

Besides, it was hard to stay angry at the colorful and messy menagerie that had assembled behind them.

Jessie was dressed in a style that was more victorian in style than medieval. With an obnoxiously high ruffled collar, puffy sleeves and cinched in waist, Jessie looked ready to jump down the rabbit hole with Alice and not look out of place in Wonderland. The hat alone, that was at least twice the size of her head and overloaded with an insane amount of fake flora, screamed too much.

James was far more subtle, choosing just a gentleman’s coat and ruffled blouse. His red was a strange offset to Jessie’s blue. Ash had the passing thought that perhaps they had planned it that way before chasing the thought away.

“No need to be rude, twerp. I was giving you a compliment,” Jessie pouted, poking him in the gut with the point of her folded umbrella. Ash didn’t know what is for (other than annoying him) and he didn’t bother to ask.

“What are you doing here?” Ash grumbled, swatting the umbrella away.

“Really!”

“We were just watching your match,” James hastily interrupted. “And… we’re here to prove that we aren’t up to anything. As promised.”

Jessie gave James an exasperated look before popping him over the head with her umbrella. Meowth clanked his way up onto the bench, dressed in a full suit of pokemon armor. He gave a small salute to Pikachu who was glowering since the cat’s entrance.

“See yah went with da clown costume, Pikachu.”

“Jester.”

“Same difference.”

“What are you supposed to be? A tin can?”

“Jealous?”

“Pretty sure what you’re wearing is conductive, Meowth.”

Ash stepped in between the one-sided conversation just as Pikachu’s cheeks began to spark. With one hand, Ash told Pikachu to stand down. And Pikachu did so, somewhat reluctantly. Meowth tried to hide his relief by not shuffling off too quickly.

“Honest, Ash,” James began again, “We are just here to show our support.”

“Speak for yourself, James. I’m here to root for your opponents,” Jessie shot Ash a simpering smile, knowingly tapping the ground with the umbrella. “Like that one,” She pointed behind Ash, and the boy turned just in time to watch as a weavile flipped through the air and managed to land on top of a Tropius in mid-flight.

Ash slowly wandered around the pillar that had been in his way before, watching in wonder as the smaller pokemon dashed up the sauropod-like monster. It expertly scissored between Tropius’ leafy wings before back flipping off its head and shooting an ice ball right between Tropius’ eyes. Blinded, the larger pokemon’s hyper beam went wide, nearly striking the audience. Ash, like many of the other audience goers, ducked as the beam sliced into the pillar next to him; leaving a sizable divet.

Weavile landed flawlessly not even turning around to watch as the spent Tropius collapsed to the ground behind him. Ash’s eyes moved from the scarlet crowned pokemon to the armored knight in the opposite box. His eyes narrowed.

“That knight is soooo much better than you,” Jessie crowed, slapping the younger boy on the shoulder.

“It’s one pokemon,” Ash muttered. “Pikachu can handle it.”

“You better hope so. Be kind embarrassing to lose after all the effort you went to enter this thing. What with you being on pr-”

Ash had turned in alarm with the intent to shush the blabbermouth. But thankfully, James was there before him. The Team Rocket member was probably used to Jessie saying one thing too many and was at the ready to discreetly stuff a ready hot sweet roll into her mouth. She might have been indignant, but food was hard to argue around. Her anger quickly changed to that of delight as she chowed down on the baked treat.

James handed the remaining roll to Ash, “Hungry? Can’t imagine the vendor delivers to the competitor row often.”

Ash looked suspiciously down at the offered sweet roll, dripping of icing. James rolled his eyes and shoved it into the younger boy’s hands. “Just take it.”

“You do something to it?”

“Really?”

“Drop it on the ground?”

“Honestly, Ash. It’s a sweet roll. If you don’t want it, give it back.”

Ash sat back down on a bench and took a large bite. Seemingly satisfied, he tore off a piece for Pikachu. He ignored the smile on the Team Rocket member’s face.

“You’re welcome,” James said.

“I’m gonna win,” Ash said through a mouthful of sweet roll. “Watch.”

“Never doubted you,” James chuckled, turning his head just enough to catch sight of Meowth glaring at him. “What?”

“Didja just give da twerp my sweet roll?”

Ash took another large bite and gave the talking pokemon a sideways smile. What was worse was that he did this in perfect sync with his Pikachu. Pikachu’s grin was only a hundred times more unbearable.

“I’m sorry, Meowth, I-I’ll get you a new one-”

Meowth held up his hand, “Just… Ugh. I cannah even look at ya right now.”

As James rushed off to fix his error, Ash finished off the sweet roll. He licked his fingers while staring wonderingly after the Team Rocket member. If he didn’t know any better, Ash might have thought that James was trying to be nice to them.

And Ash couldn’t imagine what sort of elaborate trap required the nice act. Was he just hoping to lull Ash into a false sense of security? Because he’d be damned if it fooled him.

“So not buying this nice guy act,” Ash said aloud.

Meowth slunk off the bench, perhaps in his own quest to find a sweet roll. “Me neither,” he huffed as he went.

* * *

 

Ash re-entered the tournament with renewed enthusiasm. Though he still patently avoided Charizard’s pokeball, he hesitated no longer in putting in his all. He pushed his pokemon with the energy and spirit they had grown used to over the years. But victories were not the same.

When Squirtle had defeated the opposing Magmar, he had expected Ash to celebrate as always. Either by embracing his winning pokemon or joining in a victory dance. Each pokemon had their own preference. Squirtle usually liked to play it cool, especially in a battle that was easily won. A simple high five was all he expected. But when he turned to clap hands with that of Ash, the trainer was looking elsewhere.

His eyes were narrowed and focused on one of the trainers in the competitor’s row, a man in full armor. And Ash returned the disgruntled Squirtle without so much as a smile. Captured in the red light, the pokemon disappeared with its hand still outstretched.

Each of Ash’s pokemon faced a similar cold treatment. The victory were hollow and expected things. And he marched off the field almost as soon as the match was called, leaving Pikachu to run after him.

Pikachu might have said something, if he didn’t know why Ash was acting this way. Hoping to just keep Ash in the fighting mood, he kept quiet and tolerated the coldness. It will pass, Pikachu kept telling himself. It will pass and things will go back to normal.

Ash and his pokemon almost effortlessly climbed the ranks. As did the armored titan and his weaviles. He used no other pokemon, but Ash did notice that he seemed to be cycling between two weaviles; one female and one male. In the breaks, Ash researched the pokemon on his poke’dexter and watched the man fight. Ash had a plan well formed long before he was finally due to face him.

This time, when Ash jogged onto the field and into the trainer box, his anxieties were long gone. He was already ready to fight before he was announced, as was Pikachu who was waiting to spring off his waiting arm. They just needed the signal.

“We are now down to the final two, ladies and gentlemen! The winner of this battle will earn the title of Cameron Hero! In the green box, we have the crowd favorite, Sir Ash!”

Ash politely raised his handfor the crowd that roared back in response. His gaze moved through the crowd, spotting the King’s eager expectation, the Princess’ meaningful smile and much to Ash’s own surprise- Ash saw James. The man was sitting alone, watching with a concerned look on his face. James didn’t see Ash looking and Ash quickly looked away before he could. The sight of the man there made him uneasy, especially watching with such interest… Though perhaps he should have been more alarmed about the absence of his teammates.

“In the red box, we have the mysterious stranger!”

The crowd roared appropriately and Ash returned his focus to his opponent. He knew by this point that the man had entered under no name. But that made little difference. Name or not, he wouldn’t be able to beat Pikachu.

“May both our competitors give their best! At your mark!”

“I’ve been looking forward to this, little mouse,” The armored man called.

“And that’s the last time you’ll be calling me a mouse,” Ash snapped back. “Pikachu g-”

Ash had swung back his arm, with the full intent to help launch his pokemon into the ring. But when he did so, one of his pokeballs activated. In a splash of red light, a giant dragon formed in front of him. The freed monster let out a mighty roar that stole the color from Ash’s face and nearly all the strength from his legs.

“No,” Ash gasped out in quiet horror.

“Sir Ash has chosen Charizard as his pokemon fighter for the final match. Clearly saving the best for last!”  
  
The crowd cheered riotously in response. Ash could only stare blankly at the pokemon that had forced its way on the battlefield. And if his opponent found Ash’s behavior strange, he didn’t let it stop him from unleashing his weavile onto the field.

“Charizard!” Pikachu snapped. “What do you think you’re doing? Pikapi didn’t call you.”

“And he never will. The little one is scared of me.”

“That is… um…”   
  
Charizard let out another fierce roar that caused Ash to lurch back. Even the most unobservant audience goer would have seen how Ash shielded himself with his arms, cowering. Pikachu cast his trainer a pitying look.

“He will never trust me,” snarled the dragon. “He will keep me in that infernal ball for the rest of my life. And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

“What do you plan to do?”

Flames licked the dragon’s snout as it looked back at them. “Win.”

And with that, Charizard stomped forward. With two massive sweeps of his wings, the dragon launched himself at his opponent like a bullet launched from the chamber. He would have slammed into the creature with full force if Weavile hadn’t skillfully dodged out of the way.

Ash cried out uselessly, issuing no order as Charizard reared back its head to launch a volley of flames upon the smaller pokemon. Again, Weavile dodged. But this time, when it sprung back, it sliced Charizard’s face with its talons. Blood sprayed from the dragon’s snout unnoticed as it made a sloppy attempt to bite the elusive Weavile.

Ash watched the pokemon toil. He watched his opponent actively giving order after order to keep his own pokemon out of Charizard’s merciless jaws. And Ash watched unable to speak or move. He felt as though he had been cemented in place; cringing at every blow Charizard managed to land as if they were being landed on his own person. And under his breath, he whispered desperate pleas for weavile to win. Wishing it to spot Charizard’s weak point under his wings, hoping it might notice the blind spot it could utilize to avoid the dragon’s more lethal blows.

And yet, Ash knew it was all pointless. If Charizard used that move, then no amount of weak points or blind spots would save Weavile or anyone else in this stadium. This was a mistake. This was a big stupid mistake. Why did I think I could do this? The panic was an icy shroud slipping over him and sliding innocuously into his skin. His eyes darted wildly to the crowd of happy flushed faces, seeing William in every single one of them. I shouldn’t be here. I need to get out of here.

Ash made to move. He stumbled backwards, nearly stepping out of his trainer box when something grabbed his ankle. A sudden sharp shock went charging up his leg, sending Ash staggering backwards. He fell to his knee, shuddering from the electric attack, meeting the fierce look of his pikachu.

“You need to believe in him, Pikapi,” Pikachu shouted. “Charizard needs his trainer.”

“Pikachu, I can’t- He’s gonna-”

“Stop running away! We need you, Pikapi!”

Ash looked from Pikachu to the enormous dragon on the field. The blood was still running free down his face and now it was nursing a limp where Weavile’s shadow ball had struck him. For one fleeting moment, Ash saw not the monster that had summoned the sun to kill. He saw the small Charmander, crying in the rain; abandoned by its trainer and left cold, dying and in pain. Charizard’s roared once more but this time, Ash didn’t shy away. He could finally hear the pain in its voice. It brought tears to his eyes.

They had both been hurting.

“Charizard!” Ash cried out, his voice slicing across the battlefield like a blade. The dragon whirled about by the sound, meeting the glassy eyes of his trainer. Ash threw his arm to the sky. “Seismic toss!”

Before Weavile could leap away again, Charizard had wrapped both claws about its midsection. It withstood the thrashing and tearing bites as he climbed into the sky. Then, with a beautiful twist, both pokemon somersaulted back into the center of the ring, showering both trainers with earth.

Charizard emerged from the dust cloud immediately, landing neatly before that of Ash’s trainer box. But Weavile didn’t get back up. The match was called while the opposing pokemon disappeared in a flash of red light.

  
“Sir Ash Ketchum and Charizard are this year’s heroes of Cameron!”

Sound came back in a painful rush as the crowd burst into cheers. And, though he hated to, Ash let himself feel glad about it. He smiled over at his dragon that was trying its best to not look as tired as it actually felt.

It’s over. Ash felt like he could finally breathe again.

“Thank you, Charizard,” Ash said softly.

“You’re welcome, Little one,” Charizard grumbled back though Ash wouldn’t understand. And he returned to his pokeball with less fear that it would be the last time.

Ash stared down hard at the pokeball. Would he be able to call on Charizard himself next time? Ash couldn’t say. His hands were still trembling as he reattached the pokeball. Pikachu had taken up celebrating the victory with a strange Aipom that was swinging the two of them about in circles. The sight brought the smile back to his face.

  
“Congratulations. That was a terrific battle.”

An armored glove was held out to him. Before Ash took it, he looked up in shock at the armored opponent who had since removed his, or rather her, helm. She was a tall tanned beauty with tight crimped curls in her long hair. Her eyes were a startlingly blue that made it difficult for Ash to look anywhere else.

“My beauty strike you speechless, little mouse?” the woman teased.

Ash grudgingly took up her offered hand in a tight shake. “This little mouse beat you with a dragon.”

“Right, right. It was very impressive,” She said in a way that sounded very much like she was just humoring him. Ash could definitely tell she was the same person that had been under the armor.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Kidd. Nice to meet you.” She bowed shortly to him. “It was wonderful to have a chance to battle you, Ash. You are clearly a skilled trainer. I’ve never seen a pokemon fight so hard for its master before.”

Ash cracked a wry smile. “Thanks.”

“That your Aipom?”

“Wha- huh?” Ash spun about to see where Kidd was pointing, noting the monkey that was still whirling about with his bewildered Pikachu. “Oh, that Aipom? Nope.”

“Interesting.”

“Why? Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” Kidd said, switching her helm to her other arm. She gave one last wave to Ash before heading off the field. “See you at the ball.”

As the wave of other trainers and audience go-ers rushed on the field to offer congratulations to the tournament winner, Ash was left numb to it all. He was still struck dumb by Kidd’s last words. He went through the motions of giving handshakes and high fives, all while decoding the last words in his head.

“What ball?” 

To Be Continued…  
Please Read and Review!


	6. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The multi-faceted gem seemed to shine in answer. And somewhere down deep, a voice rose up and tickled at Ash's ear.  
> Why? It whispered, choked with tears. Why why?  
> Ash bristled at the sound. He looked about wildly, unable to find the ghost who had spoken.  
> "For the night, you are the embodiment of our great Sir Aaron," Aileen continued, drawing Ash momentarily away from the voice. "Our Hero of the Wave. Chosen through battle and strife, you shall lead the festivities we hold in your honor."  
> Battle and strife, Ash smiled. It was one simple pokemon tournament. Hardly the ordeal the princess was making it out to be. Cameron sure liked to ham up their crazy festivals.  
> Coward, came the voice again. It was hissed this time, with all the maliciousness of a dagger slipped between his ribs.  
> "May Sir Aaron's blessing continue to shine upon his beloved kingdom in the—"  
> "I'm sorry," Ash whispered, cutting off Aileen's speech. "Did you just— Did you hear something?"  
> For a second, Aileen's mask slipped. He could see the real girl underneath, rattled by his unrehearsed interruption. She coughed and then grinned, "My speech boring you, Ash?"

**Chapter Six:** The Dance

There's no room left for me in this shelter  
What did you expect me to become?  
-EarlyRise

 **T** he Hero of Wave seemed like a pretty sweet title until it was actually bestowed on him. There was probably some fine print somewhere that mentioned all the pomp and ceremony behind winning a simple pokemon tournament. They failed to mention that by winning, Ash'd be forfeiting his right to actually enjoy the party supposedly held in his honor.

After the match was over, they whisked him away almost immediately. 'They' being a jumbled mess of castle staff who rushed him into a wing of the castle he'd had yet to see. By the lush furniture, plush carpets, chandeliers rocking from high ceilings and walls crested by elaborate crown moldings, Ash assumed he was in the royal wing. But Ash wasn't given long to marvel at his surroundings. He was pushed forcefully into a chair where a tired-looking maid dusted him with a makeup brush.

He tried to tell them that boys don't wear makeup, but that just made the servants laugh. Any further protests would get him a mouthful of brush, so he shut up. Ash fumed silently as they plucked and prodded him with their cosmetic tools, dreading the end result. However, when his chair was spun back around to the mirror, Ash was pleasantly surprised. He looked much the same as he had before, his skin a bit more bronze perhaps and eyes looking brighter. If he hadn't just gone under this torturous makeover, Ash would have just thought he rolled out of the right side of the bed.

After makeup, Ash was dragged unwillingly into the hall where his kidnappers proceeded to take picture after picture of him. Yes, they definitely didn't mention this as part of the package.

Ash suspected it was probably worse than normal, too. They kept pushing him in front of Sir Aaron tapestries, demanding that he mimic the man's various poses. One such time, Ash couldn't resist a snide remark back the tapestries' way.

"Lucky you died before they could get their hands on you."

That got him scolded. The photographer was more mad that he broke his pose than what he had to say though. It was a rather uncomfortable chest-rearing pose that looked nice and heroic on Sir Aaron. On Ash, he felt like a confused primeape. If he thumped on his chest and yelled, he'd fully complete the image. It would also get him into more trouble. So, of course, Ash couldn't resist.

Pikachu watched all of this busy fuss carry on without him. While Ash did try to pull his pokemon in from the sidelines, no one was much interested in taking pictures of a pokemon that Sir Aaron never owned. They did, however, beg for Ash to let Pidgeot out for a few shots, which made Ash regret trying to get Pikachu involved.

Not that Pikachu minded being disincluded. He had found a new friend in a rather mischievous Aipom. And while Ash suffered his reward as hero, Aipom led Pikachu to all the secret passages and hideaways that the castle had to offer. He'd pop back for a bit to acknowledge Ash's misery, but it was hard to stay put when Aipom would sneak back around with an armful of poffins.

After the photographers determined they had abused him tolerably enough (or rather, once the natural light had diminished with the setting of the sun), Ash was finally instructed to join the evening festivities. He hadn't even been given a second to get nervous; they had him by the wrist again. Someone else was pushing him from behind. It was in this way that he was led to the great ballroom.

It was an impossibly large room with high, sweeping ceilings and everything colored a tarnished bronze. Everything, from the enormous glass-paned veranda doors to the inlaid paintings of dripping gold, was made to make Ash feel small and insignificant. A sizable crowd had gathered in the center of the room, evidently being the tournament spectators from before. While he had been off playing celebrity, these people had been allowed to leisurely file into the ballroom and gorge themselves on tasty appetizers. Perhaps he would have been jealous from the outside looking in. He, probably like many in the ballroom, would have envied all the special treatment he imagined the winner would receive. But from this side of the door, the grass sure looked nicer where they were sitting.

There was no casual way to enter a room this large, especially not through the chamber doors he had been evicted from. The entourage that had both been his constant guide and perpetual thorn in his side abandoned him at the door. He was left standing exposed, holding his breath as the familiar feeling of countless eyes on him shivered up his spine. The crowd became louder and pressed together, some standing on their tiptoes to look at him. He saw them as a single mass of eyes and flashing teeth, a beast simpering and snickering at him. He pulled the brim down low to hide his face and almost marched his way into a nearby pillar.

Thankfully, a familiar feeling of pattering feet climbing up his back and then tugging on his ear, reined him out of the way.

" _Can't leave you alone for five seconds,"_  Pikachu huffed, knocking the boy's hat back with a smile. Ash weakly returned the smile. And then, something catching his eye, Ash dusted off the pokemon's snout.

"Is that—Where did you get poffins?"

"Hero of Wave."

The call snapped Ash back to attention. He looked up and across the steeped dais where two very regal nobles stood waiting. They had both vacated their thrones to meet Ash halfway, but even halfway was taxing with an audience scrutinizing your every step. The polished floor unkindly carried the loud sound of his footsteps as he joined Cameron's royal family.

Roman spared Ash a comforting wink. But Aileen had fully donned the royal visage, gown and all. Though her painted lips offered the smallest of smiles, it was she who had commanded him forward. And it was she who rigidly wielded a staff in his direction.

She twirled and twisted it about gracefully before raising it up for Ash to see. No, not him, Ash realized with a wry smile as the princess raised it over Ash's own head. It was all a show for the audience that had gathered.

"This staff once belonged to Sir Aaron, the original Hero of Wave. It is the chosen weapon of a guardian. And it is the only remaining possession of a lost hero." Aileen thrust the staff in front of Ash's face, startling him. He looked from her to the staff and then back again. He only just understood before she gently rolled it into his hands.

It was lighter than it looked, which made it feel more fragile too. The last thing Ash needed to do was break a thousand year old artifact after winning a tournament he wasn't even allowed to enter. The wooden shaft ended in a curious amalgamation of metal and crystal.

Pikachu, from his perch on Ash's shoulder, leaned in, sniffing. The metal tassels clinked as softly as a wind chime when turned about in Ash's hand. Within its metal cage, the ice-colored crystal shimmered pleasantly. Pikachu pulled back, seemingly satisfied. Ash, however, couldn't make heads or tails of it. This was Sir Aaron's weapon? Was Sir Aaron a magi then?

The multi-faceted gem seemed to shine in answer. And somewhere down deep, a voice rose up and tickled at Ash's ear.

 _Why?_  It whispered, choked with tears.  _Why why?_

Ash bristled at the sound. He looked about wildly, unable to find the ghost who had spoken.

"For the night, you are the embodiment of our great Sir Aaron," Aileen continued, drawing Ash momentarily away from the voice. "Our Hero of the Wave. Chosen through battle and strife, you shall lead the festivities we hold in your honor."

Battle and strife, Ash smiled. It was one simple pokemon tournament. Hardly the ordeal the princess was making it out to be. Cameron sure liked to ham up their crazy festivals.

 _Coward_ , came the voice again. It was hissed this time, with all the maliciousness of a dagger slipped between his ribs.

"May Sir Aaron's blessing continue to shine upon his beloved kingdom in the—"

"I'm sorry," Ash whispered, cutting off Aileen's speech. "Did you just— Did you hear something?"

For a second, Aileen's mask slipped. He could see the real girl underneath, rattled by his unrehearsed interruption. She coughed and then grinned, "My speech boring you, Ash?"

"No, no! I swear I just heard-"

_Traitor. Betrayer. Villain._

"A voice…"

Their audience began to rustle uneasily in the unexpected silence. Even the dull hum of their voices wasn't enough to block out the bodiless voice Ash could hear.

Aileen leaned closer, as if sharing in a conspirators' secret. "What voice?"

"I'm not sure. But I could swear I heard something—"

His eyes had flickered to the staff for the briefest of moments. And somehow the crystal glint caught his eye. Much like a familiar face would enrapture before disappearing in a passing crowd, Ash was transfixed by its sudden glow.

_Murderer._

Ash dropped the staff.

Thankfully, Roman was there in time to catch it.

"Whoopsie daisy," Roman chuckled, playing it utterly cool after having single-handedly rescued an ancient artifact from its untimely end. Oblivious to Ash's white-faced shock, he gently handed the staff back to the young man. "Got a mind of its own, it does. Hold tight to it or it will get away from you again."

When Ash didn't immediately reclaim ownership, the King forced it on him- not unkindly. He pressed Ash's own unwilling hands around its polished hilt, squeezing his larger hands over Ash's smaller ones to sink the point home.

Pain from his lightly crushed fingers knocked Ash's sense free from wherever it had gotten stuck. He nodded and held the staff more firmly; closer to his chest. Pikachu was looking at him curiously. As were, probably, the rest of the crowd. They were muttering and hissing amongst themselves, most likely chalking his poor performance up to nerves. _He was the oddest of the pokemon trainers, wasn't he? But he's so young. Look at him, shaking. Poor dear._

None of those whispers were like the one he had heard in his head.

Have I cracked? Ash thought.

It wasn't as if such self-deprecating thoughts hadn't crossed his mind since the events that stripped him of his license. The guilt of battling when certain people couldn't anymore was almost suffocating, but Ash thought he had a handle on it.

This voice wasn't like the cruel thoughts of his own invention, though. It felt somehow outside himself, even though no one else could hear it. Somehow… Ash suspected a pokemon was involved.

But where? Other than Pikachu perched on his shoulder, there weren't any pokemon close enough to whisper such insidious things.

That and… pokemon couldn't talk.  _Most_  pokemon couldn't talk.

Legendaries could.

The thought of an evil invisible Lugia floating over his head sent a shiver down Ash's spine. Was that even possible? Wasn't it more likely that he was just going crazy?

Aileen threw up her arms, waking Ash suddenly from his revierve. "And now," She announced, "in honor of great Sir Aaron and this year's Hero of Wave, let us start the annual pokemon ball!"

Amidst cheers and applause, dancers grabbed partners and spun out onto the dance floor. A band struck up their instruments at the princess' cue, filling the large room with the pleasant sounds of music and laughter. And no bodiless whispers.

Ash clutched the staff protectively, still feeling exposed where he stood on the dais. He was startled by a soft hand taking his own and spinning him about.

"Don't look so nervous, Ash. You won," Aileen smiled, the facade of the cold princess melting away at last. Not that it made Ash feel that much better. With his hand in hers, Ash was sure she could feel the rapid rate in which his pulse was fluttering.

"The hard part is over," chimed in King Roman over his daughter's shoulder. "Now for the party!"

The King waved down a passing waiter who was handing out glasses of chilled rum. But before he could take up a goblet and chug it down, Aileen snagged it from his hand.

"You have to wait for the fireworks, Dad," Aileen scolded, dropping the goblet back onto the tray and shooing the waiter away. King Roman watched the goblet leave with a frown.

"Aw, you have it, honey. You don't need me."

She playfully slapped his cheek. "I need you sober at least. Ash can help me make the announcement, can't you Ash?"

"Wha— huh? Oh yeah. Sure."

She smiled at him again. It was a radiant one and made his whole face go hot. It chased his thoughts away, leaving him with no time to wonder just what he had agreed to. Ash was starting to believe that all princesses' smiles had the power to stop hearts; his was pounding so hard it hurt. There was only one other girl who had smiles like that, but thinking about her hurt. So he tried not to.

Instead, he focused on the golden-haired girl in front of him, the one hiding underneath a wig and flashy gown. Aileen took his hand again before he could sputter in his adolescent awkwardness long. Her hand felt soft in his own and she led him firmly. Then Aileen purposely twirled him into a chair. It was artfully done. He fell into the seat neatly—surprisingly. The chair only rocked back once before falling softly back onto all four legs. Pikachu was less than thrilled, opting to immediately drop into Ash's lap after the unwelcome spinning. He groaned his own name and Ash obediently rubbed the pokemon's back. Ash noticed his seat was still high on the dais, a step lower than their own royal thrones.

"Your seat, milord," Aileen beamed, giving a flourished bow. It suited her better than a cursy might. Ash couldn't help smiling back despite the flutters in his chest.

"Great," said Ash. "I have a great view of everyone getting a great view of me."

Aileen winked. "That's the general idea."

At Ash's sour expression, Aileen playfully pat him on the head. It didn't much make him feel better. It made him feel more like Pikachu. "It's only until the fireworks. Then you can party with everyone else."

Ash looked out on all the swirling gowns, their owners and partners twirling about on the dance floor like tops. He wasn't used to this sort of party and didn't much like the thought of stumbling among them with his own two left feet.

But then a sudden realization came upon him.

"You mean I have to sit here? The whole time?"

"That's right," clucked an older woman on Ash's right. He whirled about, taken aback by her entrance. He hadn't heard the woman approach nor did he recognize her. Thankfully, Aileen was there to offer a way of introduction.

"Come on, Jenna," Aileen pouted. "Don't be such a spoilsport. He's just a kid."

Jenna straightened to her full unformidable height of five foot flat, sticking her crooked nose in the air. Ash knew before she opened her mouth that Jenna wouldn't be saying anything favorable.

"Tradition dictates that the hero needs to be visible to the populace. He ("Or she," Aileen interrupted) must remain seated, looking dignified with proper posture," Jenna paused to unwelcomely pull at Ash's shoulders so that he sat straighter. "... and stay ever vigilant over the proceedings."

"The whole night?" Ash groaned, his spine feeling like it had been hung up on a coat rack.

"Until the fireworks," Aileen offered before Jenna's disapproving glare could hush her. "Until the fireworks, Jenna. He's a kid."

Not that Ash didn't appreciate Aileen's help, but he was really starting to dislike how often she called him a "kid". He was practically sixteen, only two years younger than Aileen herself. Hardly a little kid anymore.

Pikachu, who had been privy to all the proceedings from the safety of Ash's lap, decided he wasn't going to suffer the fate of his owner. Abandoning Ash to his stiff back and boredom, Pikachu leapt down. Ash watched dejectedly as Pikachu rushed off to join Aipom, who had taken to playing underneath the dining tables.

At least Pikachu is having fun, Ash thought glumly, dropping the staff across the lap his pokemon had vacated.

_Why did you betray me?_

Ash didn't need Jenna's help to sit boltright up in his seat now. He looked about wildly, but once again, saw no source to the bodiless whisper. Aileen noticed. She was about to say something, but was interrupted by an ever oblivious Jenna.

"Traditions dictate where a princess must be, too." She waved over to the pair of thrones, one of which was already occupied by the King. But Roman hardly set an example, draped across the seat unhappily as he hungrily eyed the banquet table.

The sight of the king made Jenna huff in disapproval. But her point had been made. Aileen whispered a soft apology to Ash before being escorted back to her seat. Ash had hoped that Jenna would stay with the royal family, but she came back to him; settling herself as comfortably as a crow would perched by his shoulder.

"Some prize this was," Ash grumbled to himself.

"It's not a prize. It's a duty," Jenna snapped unhelpfully.

Ash responded by lightly knocking himself upside the head with the staff until Jenna made him stop.

Maybe he  _was_ still just a kid.

* * *

 **J** ames was never good at this part. His hands were shaking so badly he had to hold his one hand steady as he eased the wayward pokeball back into the stranger's pocket. It didn't help that said stranger was currently preoccupied in flirting with Jessie. He kept stepping back and forth, making it really difficult to perform this good deed.

Once the pokeball was back where it had been stolen from, James retreated. He ignored Jessie's pointed glares and wandered over to the banquet table. There was a line of seats pressed against the wall, waiting. James gratefully sank into one.

Meowth, who had been delighting himself more with the food than the pokemon score, saddled over with a full plate. He climbed up next to his partner and reluctantly offered an eggroll. James pushed it away.

"You look plumb tired," Meowth mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"I've been spending the last hour keeping Jessie from robbing people," James sighed, waving helplessly the redhead's way. She was growing impatient with her current mark, still sending glares their way. James watched her hands, knowing only too well how quick she was at sneaking something away.

"You shud just let her be. She aint bothering nobody."

"We promised Ash."

" _You_  promised. Let Jessie have her fun. Maybe we can get some decent grub from fencing what she grabs."

James lightly bopped the cat upside the head. "Just eat, Meowth. Don't talk."

While the smack was light, it still pushed the pokemon's face into his plate of food. He looked grumpily up at James, his face dripping with soy sauce, rice and bits of fish. James at least had the decency not to laugh.

"I  _was_ eating!" Meowth yoweled. Muttering unkind things under his breath, Meowth jumped down from the chair. As he headed back to the food, he spared one tiny gem of wisdom for his partner, though Meowth thought he hardly deserved it.

"If yah want to stop Jessie, ya need tah distract her."

"Distract her?"

Meowth nodded. "Someding shiny. Or maybe some catnip. You know, wid someding nice?"

James' face fell. "Jessie isn't a cat."

"Fine. Suit yerself."

Meowth huffed off, leaving James with something of an idea in mind. His eyes wandered away from Jessie and to the dancers that swung back and forth along the dance floor between them. Would it work? Jessie always seemed the romantic type.

Not usually for him, though.

Jessie, meanwhile, had just brushed off another mark with the tried and true request for drinks. She imagined her temporary suitors were probably all lined up to get drinks for her. Hopefully they wouldn't converse. Not that it mattered to her one way or the other; once she was done with a mark, she wiped them off her conscience, like dust off her shoulders.

She liked the sound of her ruffled petticoat as she sauntered towards the next group of people too tired or shy to dance. It made her feel wealthy, sheathed in such an abundance of rich fabric. And this twofold act of seduction and robbery was actually something Jessie could say she excelled at. She had the kind of pretty face and toned body that could and would always catch eyes, and she could play the demure mademoiselle long enough to slip a hand into an unprotected pocket. Jessie thrilled at being back on the hunt, doing something she was actually good at rather than aggressively chasing a pokemon trainer and his pikachu. If only James wasn't being such a bleeding heart.

Speaking of the devil, over he walked, cutting off her path to her next batch of potential victims.

"Jessie."

"James," Jessie spat back none too kindly. When she tried to walk around him, James moved with her. Jessie fell back, resting her hand on her hip in understated frustration. "Mind getting out of the way?"

"I've been doing you a favor, really."

"How do you reckon?" She wasn't really invested in what James had to say. Once again she tried to duck around him. And once again, he was there blocking her path.

"Kissing the dog with all your targets? They could track you down, you know?"

"That's my style, James."

"And I told you before, letting the victims see your face is stupid."

"Why have this face if I can't use it?" She flashed James her best sexy upward glance, but even fluttering eyelashes and full lips didn't move her obstinate partner. Jessie huffed, crossing her arms and turning away from him. "Fine. Spoil my fun. You know you are well on your way to ruining my evening, James."

"I'm sorry."

Jessie harrumphed loudly, making a show of impatiently tapping her heeled feet and tossing her hair. She was never one to be bothered about making a scene. Let the world see her discontent and strive to make amends! Besides, she had no patience for James now, not when the sidelines of the dance floor held such an abundance of vulnerable prey.

"Um… How about I make it up to you?"

"And how would you do that?" Jessie turned back, intent on flatly refusing whatever apology-themed act he had planned, but she was met with an opened hand and flushed cheeks. Jessie looked between his hand and red cheeks suspiciously.

"What is this?"

"Dance with me, Jessie."

"Dance with you? James, honey— I  _have_ danced with you. You dance like a girl."

James' cheeks went a brighter red. "I do _not_."

"Do too. James, I've seen you in a tutu. Not that you don't wear it fabulously, mind you. But uh—and, well—honestly, I'm just not in the mood."

"Oh come on," James whined with far more exasperation than Jessie was used to hearing from him. "I know how to waltz. I took lessons as a kid. Let me treat you for a change."

Jessie leveled him a look. "You're really hung up on this, aren't you?" James nodded and Jessie let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine.  _One_  dance."

James held out his hand for her once again and Jessie rolled her eyes in response. She slapped her own hand in his. Per usual, James responded with gentleness. He pulled her close, resting his free hand lightly on her hip before flashing her a smile.

"I'll lead."

Jessie frowned and looked furiously at her feet. "Sure. Whatever," She mumbled.

While in James' mind he had planned to be magnificent, reality often had a hard time mirroring fantasy. He knew all the steps well enough, but with Jessie in his arms, knowledge just seemed to have a way of slipping away. Perhaps he was just to used to letting her take charge. It felt awkward trying to force his sluggish feet through the steps. It didn't matter if it were Jessie or Jessibelle, James was far more comfortable taking a passive role.

Even with his ill-timed steps, James was surprised to discover that it was working. A smile was playing on Jessie's lips as he spun her about the dance floor. Where he thought for sure she'd be impatient, she waited. When he stumbled, she laughed. And James found himself laughing too.

Somehow, they were both having a good time. One dance stretched into two. Then three. James even let Jessie lead for a while, which got them more than a few stares. But neither cared. Jessie was the best at dipping. She'd dip him so low his hair dusted the floor. James was better at twirling her on account of his height and longer arms.

Soon James forgot all about distracting Jessie. It was much more fun just to enjoy himself. But two birds with one stone and all that.

* * *

 **T** hough Ash hadn't really wanted to embarrass himself on the dance floor, it was absolutely miserable up on his makeshift throne. Still the wizened maid at his shoulder wasn't showing any signs of leaving. Ash tried to settle into a chair that refused to be settled into, desperately reining in any hope of being rescued from his misery. His empty stomach was making hollow growling sounds, only adding to his discomfort.

How could winning a tournament be such a punishment? Was this payback for entering with a suspended license? Ash wasn't sure he deserved it.

For lack of anything better to do, Ash took to examining the large portraiture behind him. Like many of the paintings and tapestries in the castle, it was of Sir Aaron. If he tilted his head back far enough, he could see the painting in full. It was at least three times the size as the actual Sir Aaron, that is unless Sir Aaron was secretly a giant on top of his many other grand features. He was standing with his staff raised high above his head, the crystal shining like a beacon.

The crystal had gleamed like that for him, too. Or was that just a trick of the light? Ash couldn't be sure. A sick feeling fell heavily in his stomach, shining crystal reminding him of the shining orbs on Shamouti island. He sat firmly back in his seat, holding the staff as far away from himself as possible.

Then, from over the back of his chair, came an upside-down face. At first, Ash thought it was Jenna, come again to scold him for not looking dignified enough. But the long hair of her wig tickled his face as he looked up into her bright, smiling face.

"Boo," Aileen grinned, only just holding her hair and crown in place.

"P-princess—"

"Oh, hush with that." Aileen straightened, taking up Jenna's perch by his side. The fussy maid was nowhere to be seen, and Ash was somewhat alarmed that he hadn't even noticed her leave.

Aileen brushed back her hair, but the wig was hopelessly mussed. "It's Aileen to you," she continued. "The Hero and Queen got along famously, after all."

Ash sunk further back into his chair. "I'm no hero."

"Don't sell yourself short. You battled fiercely this afternoon. I'm sure you would have made even Sir Aaron himself nervous."

"That was just a pokemon battle."

"Six pokemon battles."

"Yeah. I battle a lot as a trainer. It's nothing special."

Aileen pouted and pushed Ash's hat down over his gloomy face. "If you're determined to be a poot, maybe I'll have to rethink my dance partner."

Ash started at that. He pushed his hat back to stare back up at the young princess.

"Are you asking me to dance?"

Aileen found it hard to keep her pout in place. "I was thinking about it."

"B-but—" Ash spun about in his seat, looking for the wayward maid. "I thought I—I thought we weren't supposed to move."

"We aren't. I sent Jenna on an errand," Aileen shrugged as if this were effortlessly done. "You can thank me later."

Before Ash could properly defend himself, Aileen had him by the wrist, dragging him down the dais steps. Ash only just managed to prop up the staff in his wake so it didn't clatter to the floor behind them.  _That_  would have been embarrassing. But perhaps no less than what was happening now.

Ash was not a good dancer by any means. He knew enough to shuffle aimlessly to the beat, but to create any meaningful movement from his swaying? That art was lost to him. Still, even as bad as he was, Ash knew enough to realize that Aileen was worse.

She yanked him around the dance floor like a mop, sweeping him left and right. Being a head shorter and less aggressive, Ash found himself quite at her mercy. He was left with no other option but to cling awkwardly to any part of her—a shoulder, an elbow—just to hang on for dear life. Odd that a princess would be so poor at dancing, a decidedly princess-like task. Perhaps that's why they were all regulated to their respective chairs for the evening: so that they wouldn't make a fool of themselves.

At least Aileen seemed to be having a wonderful time. All smiles and laughter, she seemed completely heedless of the wide berth the other dancers gave them. She didn't see how people were hiding their own smiles behind their hands, but Ash did. And his blush just grew more and more pronounced.

In the climax of a particularly joyous tune, Aileen haphazardly threw out her arms, flinging Ash into a group of nearby dancers. They mercifully caught him before he hit the marble floor. And to Aileen's credit, she rushed to his side looking appropriately embarrassed and apologetic.

"Oh my goodness! Are you alright, Ash?"

"Took quite a spill there didn't you, little mouse?"

Ash didn't need to look up to know who had made the lucky grab. He did anyway, preparing to glower at the woman. However, his expression quickly melted to one of surprise. Instead of her heavy polished armor, Kidd was now garbed in a lovely crinoline gown of her own. Her crimped hair was pulled back and neatly adored with a charming headpiece made of chain mail links and crystals. And her eyes were blue. Ash never noticed her eyes before.

"Struck stupid by my beauty once again?"

Ash forcefully wiggled himself free from her helpful hands, even if it did mean he ended up stumbling before he was able to get back to his feet. "Stop calling me mouse."

"I'm terribly sorry. It was my fault. I didn't mean to spin him quite so hard."

Kidd waved off Aileen's sputtering apologies just as she waved off her partner's offered hand. She climbed back to her feet alone and looked between the two younger dancers with a smile Ash didn't quite like.

"You two are poorly paired."

Ash colored but it was Aileen who indignantly responded, "I beg your pardon?"

Kidd threw up her hands protectively. "Sorry, sorry. But you are both terrible dancers. Like… really bad."

"Like to see you do any better," Ash grumbled. Unluckily for him, Kidd heard him. She grinned at him.

"Was that a challenge?"

"Hey hey. Ash is my partner—we only have a few minutes to spare. Now shoo. Mind your own business," Aileen huffed. She grabbed Ash's arm, fully intent on dragging him off for another dangerous few minutes of spinning, flinging and trodden feet.

"I can teach you." Kidd had come around, cutting off their exit before Aileen could safety whisk them out of range. "To dance, I mean. Gods know you both could use it. Might make the dance floor a little less dangerous, too."

"I… um… well…"

Ash could see Aileen's resolve was dissolving. Perhaps she was more aware of her own poor dancing ability than she had let on. But Ash was less willing to learn. He was quite happy with his aimless swaying, thank you very much.

"We don't need dance lessons."

"Aw come on, Ash. You'd impress a lot of girls."

"Girls… girls don't care about—" But even as Ash said it, he could see the color rising to Aileen's cheeks. Ash frowned and crossed his arms. Kidd took his pout as answer enough.

"Alright, princess. You can go with Edmund here. He dances quite well. All you have to do is let him lead."

Kidd's partner, far from being upset at losing his original partner, appeared delighted at the chance to dance with royalty. Ash didn't much like the look of him either, all pompous frills and ruffles. He was tall, too. Edmund looked like a far more appropriate partner for the princess. At least Ash could take solace in the fact that Aileen looked as unsure about the new partner as Ash felt.

"Your grace," Edmund simpered.

Once Edmund had taken Aileen's hand and led her gracefully back out onto the floor, Ash was left to stare Kidd down.

"I don't want to dance with you," he said flatly. Kidd was completely unfazed.

"Brrr, Ash. I'll catch a cold!" Ignoring his protests, she took both of Ash's hands in her own. Where Aileen's hands had been soft and cold, as if cut from cool glass, Kidd's were calloused and warm. They were strong hands, those of a worker. A climber, even. Lost in his speculation, Ash let her position him appropriately.

She placed one of his hands on her waist, just a breath above her hip. The other she clasped warmly in her own.

"We'll start with an easy one, the waltz. Just three steps. Very easy. I'll lead first, then you."

Ash watched her move her feet. Then he made poor and clumsy attempts at imitating her. He trod on her feet once, tripped up over his own feet three times, and once over nothing but air. But slowly, very slowly, Ash began to trick his feet into behaving. Along with the whispered beats from Kidd—"one two three, one two three, one two three"—Ash was finally able to confidently lead her through the first half of one song. He was still too short, and he couldn't perform any of the dips or spins Edmund was showing off with. But somehow, he was dancing.

"Good, Ash. Good," Kidd smiled without any hint of her usual sarcasam. "You catch on quick."

Ash hoped this meant she'd let him return to dancing with Aileen. Not that Kidd was being as teasing as she had been before;Ash was just hoping to get a second chance at dancing with the princess properly.

But unluckily for him, Jenna was back and glowering over at them from the dais, arms crossed and tapping her foot loudly. Ash and Aileen were forced to disengage from their partners and return to the dais where the maid was waiting.

Jenna wouldn't even hear Aileen's apologies, shooing her back to her seat. To Ash, she said nothing. She merely thrust the staff back into his arms and motioned to the seat he'd left empty. Ash obediently complied.

He could see that the skies outside were almost completely black. Hopefully, his earned torture would soon be over.

* * *

 **M** eowth hadn't any altruistic reasons for behaving himself. There was good food to be had and as a chronic sufferer of poor initiative, Meowth had no inclination to start thieving without his partners.

If his humans weren't there to take the fall, no reason for him to do so. Pokémon already had the short end of the stick anyway, stuffed into pokéballs and forced into playing warrior servants for the humans' entertainment. Count Meowth out! Other Pokémon could do what they wanted, but this Meowth was too smart to play the humans' game without incentives.

However, his eyes did follow Aipom and Pikachu as they chased each other out of the banquet hall. He only meant to see what they were up to, make sure no other pokemon thieves got the drop on Pikachu while they weren't looking.

The latter was just a passing thought, of course. Meowth was truly startled when a young woman snuck into the room too, clearly in pursuit. Meowth flattened himself against the wall, as much as one could in a full suit of pokémon-sized armor. His plate of food went carelessly tumbling across the floor.

The pursuer didn't seem to notice; she'd trodden on a salmon roll without looking and kept after the duo. The human had a mouthpiece she was rapidly speaking into. He watched in fascination as she discarded the heavy ball gown in favor of a skintight jumpsuit she'd smuggled in underneath. She continued talking in a low voice through the mouthpiece as she tied her long hair up into a high ponytail. And then, after stuffing her dress unceremoniously into a nearby bookcase, she casually slipped out the window.

They were on the fourth floor. Meowth didn't dare look after her. Somehow, he knew she wasn't the kind of person to simply jump out of a window. There was real purpose in her actions.

"Geezus," Meowth breathed once she was gone. "I hope she ain't with White Ice. Dat'd be just our luck."

If Meowth was smart, he'd pick up his trodden sushi and return to the party. He knew that would be the smart thing to do. But Meowth was more curious than he was smart; he couldn't help himself.

If White Ice was after their Pikachu, he'd need to find out why, even if it meant getting more involved than he'd like.

* * *

 **A** sh was currently pretending to be a statue. Anything to get Jenna's beady eyes off his back. He wasn't quite sure he looked as regal as Jenna wanted. Stiff and tired, perhaps.

As the orchestra's final song petered off, couples broke apart for a smattering of applause. Before Ash knew it, all eyes were turned up to the dais again. The royal family descended the steps behind him, coming to rest just before his own seat. Roman was smiling his way. Aileen had once again donned her mask and only had eyes for the eyes that were upon her.

"It is now time that we pay our final tribute to the great hero. Our chosen guardian will lead the proceedings, Sir Ash from Pallet town," Aileen bowed her head beckoning him forward with a single sweep of her arm. At the sound of his name, Ash lurched to his feet and stumbled to his place by the princess's side. So great was his haste that he almost left the staff behind, startled when Jenna shoved it back into his arms.

The King came over in the guise of giving his blessing, and Ash was forced to kneel. While he stood in front of Ash, gently knocking the flat of his blade against Ash's shoulders, he began whispering things Ash found completely unrelated to the task at hand.

"Now Ash," Roman muttered under his breath quickly, obviously trying to avoid being overheard by the other guests. "You are going to give the firework's signal. You need to say the hero's chant, then raise the staff in Sir Aaron's signature pose." He bounced the sword against Ash's right shoulder. "Got it?"

"What?"

All too suddenly, Ash was abandoned again. He was kneeling before the watchful eyes of the assembly, completely at a loss. Ash rose uncertainly, placing his weight on the staff as he did so. His fingertips grazed the edge of the crystal as he adjusted his grip, and that tiny touch sent a sharp stab of cold up his fingers, jarring whatever small bit of courage he was mounting.

_Sir Aaron._

King Roman was gesturing at him, lifting his hands over his head. Ash shook his head to show he didn't follow. Then Aileen discreetly pointed to the painting behind them, the one of Sir Aaron lifting his staff above his head.

Oh. Ash hastily tried to mirror the pose. And then… Hero's chant? Ash stared blankly into the sea of faces staring back at him. What was it that they kept saying?

"The wave…" Ash began hesitantly. At both royals' encouraging expressions, he swallowed and tried again. "The wave is with me."

"And also with me," came the low hum of replies.

Suddenly, the whine and pop of fireworks started up outside. Ash turned to marvel at the colors bursting outside the wide windows. He might have remained enraptured, much like the rest of the audience was, if the voice hadn't returned.

_I believed in you._

Ash whirled, but like before, he saw no one talking. Fireworks lighting up their happy faces, no one seemed to hear what he could.

_You were my friend._

Ash suddenly felt sick. The faces around him were swimming in a swirl of colors, and his hands were going numb as he held the staff in a white-knuckled grip.

_But you left us all to die. You betrayed us. How could you?_

Something was happening. Ash could feel it now, how his fingers seemed glued to the staff. He couldn't shake himself free. The cold feeling was seeping up his arms, like ice traveling his veins. He stared down in horror as the top of the staff began to glow.

_You coward. You murderer._

There was no denying it now. The gleam from before had brightened to a beacon so dazzling that it tore eyes away from the fireworks display. The staff was humming now, starting to shake in Ash's frozen grip.

_You're no hero._

"Ash? Ash, what's going on?"

"I—I don't know! It's—"

"Drop it!"

"I can't!"

Both King and Princess tried to pry the staff from Ash's frozen hands. But it was shaking so violently now that it rattled free from their grips. The light was so blindingly white it seared the eyes. Ash ripped the staff away from them, certain it was going to erupt. Better for it to take his hands than the others.

"Get away!" Ash shouted.

_I will stop you._

And then it did explode, but not in the way Ash expected. He was thrown backwards onto the dais steps as a beam of energy shot out of the end of the staff. It coalesced into a upright canidae shape, almost mistakably humanoid save for the ears and tail.

Then with a blink, the white light shimmered away, leaving a black-and blue-furred pokemon kneeling in front of them all. It lurched up with eyes still squeezed tightly shut.

_Sir Aaron!_

It whirled on the spot, its voice echoing startlingly through the minds of everyone present. Those in the audience who were nearest lurched backwards in fright. Many were grabbing at their ears, asking where the voice was coming from.

Ash could tell by how it whirled about, it had to be blind. He thought that maybe he could crawl safely out of range if he just managed to not make any noise. That was until it zeroed in on him laying where the staff had flung him. Even without eyes, it seemed to see Ash there. Just what kind of frightening creature was this? Ash especially didn't like how the air seemed to shiver around its paws.

_I've found you._

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please Read and Review!


	7. Imprisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ash!" Aileen cried out. She rushed forward and grabbed Ash's raised arm before he could do anything stupid. Though Ash pulled against her, he didn't release any of his pokemon. And by Lucario's stance, the pokemon clearly hadn't taken the boy's threat seriously. He merely stared and with a voice only Ash could hear said,  
> You're an impetuous child. Do you make a habit of goading every monster you meet?  
> Ash pulled his hand free from Aileen's grip. Though he barely comprehended the advanced vernacular of the ancient pokemon, it being spoken telepathically was enough to get the meaning across. Ash smiled meanly at Lucario, "Only special ones."

**Chapter Seven:** Imprisoned

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise  
Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies  
-Fleetwood Mac

" **W** ait!" Ash cried out, only just rolling out of the way before the pokemon pounced upon him. The marble steps cracked on impact, splintering and tossing bits of shards in the air.

"Holy mother of—" Ash heard Roman's curse flying from his lips. But the king lurched backward rather than forwards, leaving Ash completely at the wild pokemon's mercy. The crowd became a crazed and panicked mob, screaming and dashing for the exits. Ash cursed at their retreating backs. The pokemon wasn't after  _them_.

The fireworks continued to pop heedlessly in the background. Ash could hear the whistles and crashes as the light splashed unkindly across his assailant's menacing features. It lunged again, and Ash used the staff to block the blow. But the pokemon's strength was fierce, far superior to one 15-year-old boy. Ash was thrown off his feet and crashed back down on the dais steps. The pokemon had pinned him, the stairs cutting unkindly into Ash's back. It pressed down, forcing the hilt hard across Ash's throat, strangling him.

"Pikachu!" Ash cried out, fighting against the rod crushing his windpipe. "Pikachu, thunderbolt!"

There was no reply. Ash, with trembling arms, pushed upwards on the staff and tried to see from his downcast position where his pokemon had gone to. Upside down, Ash scanned the chaotic stampede of polished boots and brushed skirts that flitted past. But no pokemon. Not even Aipom. Not even Meowth.

The creature easily overpowered Ash's momentary fight, gravity being on its side. The bar was down again, crushing Ash's throat. Ash gagged helplessly. The world flashed blood red with an ill-timed firework.

_You will not win this, Sir Aaron. You've grown soft in your complacency._

"I'm—I'm not—" Ash's hand slipped, his grip on the staff gone. In one horror-filled second, both knew it was over. The pokemon smirked and Ash, because he could do nothing else, closed his eyes.

Suddenly, something large swept overhead, knocking the fox-like creature off of Ash. The angry pokemon went sprawling out onto the ballroom floor, amidst the confusing jumble of escaping patrons. Ash rolled back over to his knees, dry-heaving, choking on the sudden rush of air. He wearily glanced back at his savior: the princess, pink-faced with her wig askew and a large, dented shield in her arms. She must have pried it from one of the suits of armor in the hall. Ceremonious in function and emblazoned with the castle's coat of arms, the shield barely held up when struck against an actual opponent.

Aileen threw out her hand, which Ash took without question. She yanked him back to his feet.

 _Your goons won't stop me!_  echoed more bodiless words. Ash couldn't help but grab his ears, the words were so loud. It was like small explosions in his mind, screamed at him with full force.  _I will end your treachery. I will end you._

Aileen caught Ash as he buckled, alarmed by his sudden weakness, perhaps thinking he was going to be sick. She couldn't hear it anymore. Those words were meant for Ash alone.

"It's coming back!" Ash hissed. He knew it before the pokemon had even recovered. Aileen didn't question his sixth sense. She stepped protectively in front Ash, pushing him back with her free hand. She was the very picture of absurd, with her mussed up fake hair and flashy gown. But Ash trusted her and the shield over nothing at all.

In the throng of the crowd, Ash spotted the crazed pokemon. It stood at a deceptively short height, the strange, black protruding appendages on the back of its head raised like hackles and vibrated, moving along with the pokemon's guttural hum. For the briefest of moments, Ash felt something, something he couldn't explain. It was in the shiver of the air, like a second layer he had never noticed before. And just as suddenly, it was gone.

It dissipated the second the creature shot itself towards them again. Aileen braced herself behind the shield and Ash behind her, but they both underestimated the creature. It wasn't just some brute force bent on smashing what was in its path. The pokemon was calculating, with a singular purpose that it had already screamed into Ash's head.

Instead of smashing itself uselessly against the shield, it leapt at the last second, vaulting off the shield and twisting its body through the air over both of the children's heads. Landing deftly behind them, Ash barely had time to register what had just happened before the pokemon grabbed him again.

It pulled him away from Aileen in a tight, frightening hold, its arms about his neck. Ash had no means to stop the crushing grip. He could only kick out, his heels dragging across the floor. He uselessly pulled at the offending arm as it tried to twist his neck at a cruel angle. It was too strong, too fast, too smart.

 _Farewell_.

"Nn-" Ash only just managed to get out.

"Lucario, stop!"

This, like nothing else, stayed the beast's hand. Aileen's sudden, tear-choked shout froze the pokemon in place. The feelers on the back of its head fluttered as it blindly pointed its vulpine face in the Princess' direction.

" _Your Highness?"_

Aileen started. She drew back, pulling hastily on her misshapen wig. Perhaps she thought she might be able to play the part to save Ash, but it turned out she didn't need to. Much to the surprise of the few who were left to witness it, the pokemon finally opened its eyes.

It wasn't blind like Ash had thought. Its irises were an uncanny shade of red, sharp and alert. It looked at Aileen first, in her mussed up gown and tattered wig, focusing oddly on the tear streaks on her cheeks. Then, at last, it looked down at the young man held captive in its chokehold.

Lucario jerked back as if struck, releasing Ash into a messy tangle on the floor. As soon as he was free, Ash grabbed at his own throat, coughing and gratefully still breathing. Lucario tossed its head, looking first at Aileen and then back to the young man on the floor.

" _Who are you?"_

"Not Sir Aaron," Ash coughed, a comment far more witty and sardonic than his usual repertoire, probably only just because he had narrowly cheated death twice now. Perhaps with a less dangerous pokemon, Ash might have also given a playful smile and forgiven its momentary misunderstanding. However, Ash was a far cry from feeling anything like comfort around such a creature. Instead, Ash crawled back to the dais steps, hoping to get out of range just in case the pokemon decided to change its mind and strike again.

" _What is going on? Where am I?"_

"Lucario…" Aileen took a tentative step forward. "Are you truly Sir Aaron's Lucario?"

" _I do not belong to that human!"_ The words came sharp and fast into their heads. Ash and Aileen both buckled under the force of the shout. Aileen at least had the sense not to show so much outward pain, still determined to hold a conversation.

"I'm sorry, Lucario. It's just that… we're as confused as you are. Please… where did you come from?"

Lucario's head turned in Ash's direction, where he lay against the bottom of the dais steps. Ash flinched involuntarily. The pokemon chose to ignore the reaction.

" _Clearly, I was carelessly summoned from my staff by Sir Aaron."_ His eyes darted about the emptying ballroom, scanning the faces of the few patrons who were left, standing agape at the proceedings. " _In a moment of weakness, perhaps. Where did he flee to? Tell me quickly and I will trouble you no further."_

Aileen opened her mouth as if to respond, but she couldn't think of what to say. Instead, she looked helplessly at the only other witness in close proximity. Ash shared in her confusion. When Aileen turned back to Lucario she tried to, as tactfully as possible, explain the current chain of events.

"Lucario, I don't know how to say this—"

"Sir Aaron is dead." Ash was standing now, his left hand hovering discreetly over his pokebelt. He delivered the words with no hint of relish, but no pity either. Just cold and empty, so they couldn't be argued against. "He died centuries ago, protecting the kingdom from the Great War. If anyone summoned you, it was me."

Lucario's eyes narrowed. " _That's not possible."_

"I didn't do it on purpose," Ash snapped. "But I  _was_ holding the staff…wanna make something of it?" He pulled a pokeball off his belt threateningly. "Or do you only attack people who are unarmed?"

"Ash!" Aileen cried out. She rushed forward and grabbed Ash's raised arm before he could do anything stupid. Though Ash pulled against her, he didn't release any of his pokemon. And by Lucario's stance, the pokemon clearly hadn't taken the boy's threat seriously. He merely stared and with a voice only Ash could hear said,

_You're an impetuous child. Do you make a habit of goading every monster you meet?_

Ash pulled his hand free from Aileen's grip. Though he barely comprehended the advanced vernacular of the ancient pokemon, it being spoken telepathically was enough to get the meaning across. Ash smiled meanly at Lucario, "Only special ones."

 _Take care, boy. That might get you killed someday._ Lucario focused his whole attention back on Princess Aileen, effectively cutting off any retort Ash might have been able to muster. " _Only Sir Aaron can summon me from the staff. Please. I am deeply sorry for the trouble I have caused interrupting your… "_ Lucario glanced around him, at the scattered guest and overturned banquet tables. ". _..your feast. He is a traitor to the kingdom of Cameron. I humbly request your assistance in apprehending him."_

Lucario bowed. And Aileen, standing helplessly before him, blinked. It took her a second or two to realize why he was bowing. She stumbled back, only just able to keep the costumed crown on the top of her fake hair.

"Oh um, Lucario… This  _is_ Cameron."

Lucario looked up in confusion. He cast his frighteningly-colored eyes out at the few slack-jawed attendants still standing around, then past them to the architecture, to the high, wide ceilings and the mighty columns supporting them. Then back around to the expansive windows that opened out into unfamiliar gardens.

" _This is_ not  _Cameron."_

Ash tried to angrily interrupt, assert that he had indeed been the one to summon Lucario, that Sir Aaron was dead, that this was Cameron, but Aileen cut him off before he could. She stepped forward and back into the role that she had been playing the whole night.

"I am Crown Princess Aileen, royal descendant of Queen Rin and rightful heir to the Cameron throne. And..." Her expression softened as she stared down on Lucario's troubled face. "Ash was telling you the truth, I'm afraid. You see… Sir Aaron and Lady Rin, they existed centuries ago. If… if you are the Lucario from those stories then…"

" _C-centuries?"_

In their moment of shared horror, Ash went to fetch the fallen staff. He snatched it back up from where it had clattered down the dais steps and jogged back over to the two. He held the staff out to Lucario, and the pokemon lurched back in alarm.

"You were inside this," Ash said. "It must have been keeping you alive all these years."

Lucario looked up and down the hated staff before resting his eyes on the young man in front of him. Once more, Ash heard words in his head that no one else could hear.

_Why do you dress like him? Are you mocking me?_

Ash gave the staff a single shake, rattling the dangling metal on the ends. Lucario flinched, then looked back at Ash with a frown.

"It's a costume."

 _Ah._ Lucario straightened, seemingly placated by Ash's response.  _So you're the court jester… I see._

Ash's face went a bright red.

"I am not—" But before he could retaliate, Aileen was there again, taking the staff gently from Ash's hands. She was careful to place the offending object out of the pokemon's line of sight, behind the folds of her ball gown.

"Sir Aaron must have been trying to keep you from harm, Lucario," said Aileen softly. Lucario balked at the suggestion.

" _No,"_ said Lucario, a shadow passing over its face.  _"Not from harm. I tried to stop him. To stop him from fleeing the battle and he imprisoned me for it."_

Neither Ash nor Aileen knew what to say. Lucario buckled under some ancient pain, hugging itself as if to push it back down. Even Ash, who wanted nothing to do with this miserable pokemon, felt a momentary pang of sympathy.

" _If what you say is true, then I am lost."_  Lucario wailed.  _"Centuries, you said. He imprisoned me for centuries! What harm did he save me from? Life? Time? He stole everything from me!"_

And with that, Lucario flew from the room. He dashed across the ballroom floor, out the open balcony and down into the night. The final cracks of fireworks sounded in his wake, but Aileen and Ash, being mere humans, were far too slow to catch him. Aileen stumbled by the doors and Ash fell against the railing, peering into the pitch darkness below.

But Lucario, the pokemon out of time, was gone.

* * *

**A**  small explosion of light on the high dais steps was the first sign that things were going just as strangely as they always did around Ash Ketchum. James had been laughing at the time, sharing in a momentary break from dancing with Jessie, gulping down almost certainly spiked punch and pressing in with the rest of the crowd for a chance to see the fireworks.

He was lightheaded and happy. Jessie was complaining that she couldn't see, so James pulled her in close, sharing his small window between people's heads. He didn't even feel shy about it, which is how he knew the punch had to have been spiked.

Jessie made a joke of some kind; some teasing remark at his expense. But in the rush that followed, James all but forgot what was said. He only remembered that he had been laughing until that pokemon appeared. Then the bottom of his stomach dropped out.

Unlike the rest of the audience, James and Jessie were both pretty sure the sudden mysterious pokemon's appearance wasn't part of the show. Jessie reached out and blindly grabbed James' hand. It was the only way she showed that she was sharing in his sudden anxiety.

They watched only as long as was necessary. When people started to run, they were both the first to dash for the doors. Jessie caught James' arm at the doorway, roughly yanking the both of them into a small alcove just outside the grand hall. She pinned him to the wall, breathless with a crazed look in her eye.

"James! This is our chance!"

"W-what?"

"The twerp is distracted. This is the perfect time to nab a few off these trainers!"

"You can't seriously want to steal pokemon right now," Her eager smile brought a deep sigh to James' lips. "Of course you do."

She gave James' arm a vigorous shake, practically bouncing on her toes in anticipation of the criminal undertaking. "Come on, come on! We won't get a better chance than this!"

James shook her off. "No, Jessie. We've been through this."

"That was then. This is now! The twerp won't ever know!"

"It's not that." James cast a furtive look back at the ballroom they had just recently vacated. He could hear the shouts and the sounds of what seemed like fighting. That pokemon looked like it intended to attack anyone stupid enough to get near it. And if Ash had somehow had a hand in summoning it, James doubted it was your run-of-the-mill wild pokemon.

"You saw that thing too, right?"

"That blue-looking dog? Yeah, I saw it."

"It looked dangerous."

"Seeing how the twerp summoned it, I imagine it is." Jessie blinked as if a sudden thought had come to her. "You think it's one of those  _Chosen One_  things again?"

"That's  _exactly_ what I was thinking."

Jessie frowned all the vigor from before effectively drained out of her. She stepped away from the narrow alcove and cast her own wary gaze back the way they had come. "Then we need to get the hell out of Dodge."

"My thoughts exactly."

Jessie started jogging first and James rushed to keep pace. She started spitting out orders, how they were going to get their Meowth balloon out of the courtyard, where she had seen suitable supplies they could nab on their way. However, the two hadn't gotten much farther down the corridor before they realized who wasn't with them. Both Rocket members stopped and looked at each other. They were short one talking Meowth.

* * *

**A** ileen assembled what she could of the palace staff. While she was royalty, it meant something very different in the modern age. They had hired servants, but not guards. And the servants, the majority of them, were just for show during the festival. The rest of the year, both Aileen and her father had full command of an empty tourist attraction, left to their own intellectual pursuits and occasionally called upon to play the part in a mid-year show.

King Roman had acted instinctively in the situation, dashing off to his personal apartments where he could phone the authorities. They had few modern luxuries in the castle, all of which had to be hidden from tourists' eyes. Aileen intercepted him and his phone call, pleading with the Officer Jenny on the other line not to send the whole task force as King Roman was frantically suggesting. They compromised on a few officers who'd help in the search for the wayward pokemon. And per Aileen's request, the officers were under strict orders to be gentle while apprehending Lucario.

Ash didn't join in on the search right away; he had his own search to conduct, after all. Even after all the chaos at the dance, Pikachu still hadn't turned up. Ash wandered the labyrinthine halls until, quite by chance, he ended up at the sleeping quarters he and Pikachu shared the previous night. Ash scoured the room, even resorting to looking underneath the four-poster bed. But he came up empty-handed.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity to change, Ash discarded the hero's garb for a more modern fashion. The gloves were the first to go, aside from the hat, which had been left somewhere back on the ballroom floor. He tossed the heavy, gauntleted things onto the bed, shaking out his hands gratefully once they were off. Ash left the tunic and pants in a messy puddle at the foot of the bed. The boots were comically difficult to get off his feet while standing. Ash spent more time trying to get them off quickly when if he had just patiently sat down for a moment, he might have unlaced them faster. Once disrobed, Ash threw on a light-colored pokemon league shirt and cargo pants, exceedingly grateful for how much lighter his own century's clothing was. Ash only briefly debated on whether or not to wear a windbreaker. Ultimately, the drafty feel of his own room convinced Ash that he'd find it no more pleasant out in the hallways.

Ash restarted his search with renewed energy, but he had no more luck than he had started with. There didn't seem to be a hint of Pikachu anywhere in the castle's blighted walls.

Feeling perhaps it might be good to retrace his steps, Ash returned to the ballroom. The grandiose hall felt even larger when empty. His sneakers made far less noise on the polished floors than the heavy-heeled boots, but his footsteps were still loud enough to be unnerving.

Ash walked under an unblinking tapestry of Sir Aaron. He only stared for a second before averting his eyes. Ash was really starting to resent the legacy the hero had left in his wake. There still wasn't any answer on why the staff had reacted to Ash's touch the way it had. Aileen had tried to probe him for answers. He said he didn't have any, which was only sort of true.

There were a few sickening possibilities that dawned on him when he was forced to think about it. Years ago, on a cluster of islands far from here, Ash had made crystals shine before. They were glass orbs then and, as far as Ash knew, held no pokemon. But they had summoned something, something insanely powerful. And for that, they named him Chosen One.

Ash was hoping that this crystal had nothing to do with those. He had to because to entertain that possibility was too terrifying to even comprehend. If Ash had even the slightest inkling that this was yet another Chosen One deal, he'd be on the first bus back to Pallet. At least, he'd have to  _try_ to escape.

There was a garden on the other side of the giant windows, still open since Lucario had yet to be found. Ash could see them, the search parties waving their flashlights about the grounds and calling out Lucario's name. Ash frowned at the sight, trying hard not to resent the amount of people seeking a dangerous, unwanted pokemon when one tiny, desperately wanted pikachu was missing, too.

Ash took the stairs two at a time. He turned at the large fountain, heading away from the seekers and into the shadows of a small servant's building. The door was opened, a good sign. This place wasn't too far from the feast hall. It was feasible that two troublesome pokemon could have tumbled their way into this garden shed of sorts.

Ash wandered into the pitch darkness, fumbling about the walls for a switch. He hadn't made it far when something launched down on him from above. Ash had barely the time to cry out before he found himself in a familiar choke hold.

"Let me go!"

" _Oh, it's you."_ Lucario released Ash, letting the human scramble away from him. Ash frantically brushed himself off, as if the pokemon's touch still held some power over him. He glared at Lucario, pulling himself back to his feet with the help of the nearby cabinetry.

"Goddammit," Ash hissed, smacking the newfound switch on the wall a bit harder than necessary and showering the two of them with artificial light. Lucario stared wide-eyed up at the low lamps across the ceiling, but Ash ignored his innocent surprise. "Is this how it's always gonna be between us? Cause let me tell you, I'm not a fan."

_"You shouldn't sneak up on me."  
_

"Right. Sure. And I'm guessing no one taught you how to not randomly attack people."

Lucario narrowed his eyes.  _"I admit, I was disorientated and attacked without provocation. You looked exactly like Sir Aaron."_ Lucario looked at him now, sizing up the young man in front of him. His gaze lingered on the faded Indigo League logo emblazoned across his chest and then at the sneakers tied to his feet.  _"You don't now."  
_

Ash self-consciously folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, well, I told you: that was a costume. I was dressed up for the festival. This," He gestured in front of himself with a sarcastic flourish. "Is what I look like normally."

" _Absurd. You're dressed like a pauper."_ Lucario raised an eyebrow the boy's way. _"Are you a pauper?"_

Ash didn't want to admit that he had no idea what a pauper even was. It sounded mean though. So he carried on as if it were. "Yeah, well, fashion's kind of moved on since your time period, grandpa."

Lucario flinched. But he didn't let the stinging remark linger in his thoughts. Instead, he returned to what he had been doing before the child had interrupted, which was examining his surroundings and taking in exactly how much he had missed while he was asleep. Ash watched him, his irritation giving way to curiosity. Ash thought for sure that Lucario wouldn't stay long after being discovered. He hadn't seemed to want to stay with them all in the ballroom, after all. And yet now, he was standing, as if transfixed.

"What's wrong?" Ash asked despite himself.

" _I was here. In this room, just days ago."_ Lucario paused to touch a pair of garden shears left on one of the cabinets, not able to make heads or tails of its odd design.

Ash came up alongside him. He eyed the tool with far less reverence before returning his attention to the pokemon in front of him. "So you don't remember… being in that crystal all this time."

" _Small mercies,"_ Lucario muttered, touching the cool plastic handle before pulling back with a start. It was quite unlike any material he had ever seen forged before. His eyes fell back upon the strange young man standing next to him. The future was still too foreign.

"Look," Ash began once he felt he had arrested the strange pokemon's attention. "What I said before. I wasn't lying. I really did… summon you somehow. But I don't know how I did it…"

Lucario shook his head.  _"Not possible."_

"But I'm telling you the truth!"

Lucario had already turned his head, taken in by yet another object he had yet to comprehend the function of. Ash let out an exasperated sigh, running his hand through his hair. He was staring at the floor and the marks his sneakers made, rubbing out small trenches in the dust when a sudden thought came to him.

"Wait, you said you attacked me because I looked like Sir Aaron."

Lucario was staring into the spout of a plastic watering can. He only gave the smallest incline of his head as affirmation.

"How could you have seen me? Your eyes were closed… And yeah, why was that? Why were you running around blind?"

" _I was blinded by a sand attack in a fight before Sir Aaron captured me,"_  Lucario answered carelessly, flipping over the watering can so as to examine its back end more closely.  _"I hadn't yet recovered my vision."_

"You didn't answer my question."

Lucario set the watering can down with some reluctance. After a moment's pause, where he seemed to reflect on something unpleasant, Lucario finally turned about to face Ash.

" _I used wave."_

"Wave?"

" _Wave, aura, chi… you humans have many names for such an energy."_

"Wait, wave… like that 'wave is with me' thing that everyone keeps saying?"

Lucario nodded stiffly, clearly wanting not to explain further. He hadn't known Ash very long, but he already had a feeling the boy wouldn't let him be without a full explanation.

"That's actually a thing?" Ash laughed. "I thought it was just a weird chant. I mean, well, I guess it had to come from somewhere. So it came from your time period then?"

" _It didn't come from anywhere. It's always been here. It's always been everywhere."_

"Uh… okay, I don't follow."

Lucario rolled his eyes.  _"It's a life force. A light that fills up all the space inside a person or pokemon. It makes up every living thing and each person has their own unique… for lack of a better word, look."_

Ash frowned. He had taken up a small jangle of keys from the nearby cabinet hook; fiddling with them much as Lucario had been with his various assortment of garden tools. But while Lucario had been fueled by curiosity, Ash only needed to fidget. He always needed to fidget when thinking about things. Ash teased the keys around his fingers as he thought over what Lucario had just said. "Wait... if everyone has their own look then why did you think I was—"

Lucario bristled at the incessant, probing questions. It wasn't that these weren't already questions he had asked himself, but he certainly wasn't ready to come up with answers.

" _I don't know. I made a mistake!"_ Lucario snapped.  _"Perhaps it has something to do with having just been released from my centuries worth of imprisonment!"_

"Fine," Ash snapped, slamming down the keys on the table and pushing past the pokemon. "I have somewhere better to be anyway."

Lucario watched him go. And when the human had slipped out of sight, Lucario closed his eyes. With a soft hum, he easily slipped back into his familiar second sight. What he saw there brought Lucario immediately back to himself. He opened his eyes and sighed.

" _Perfect."_

* * *

**A** sh was very flippant when it came to his discovery of Lucario. He told the passing officer and didn't wait around for whatever came afterward. Lucario found in the Princess a far more gracious host than he had found in Ash. Both she and her father were respectful and desperate to please, reassuring the pokemon that he could find a home in the castle still.

Princess Aileen politely requested that they all reconvene in the throne room. There was much to get to the bottom of and much Lucario didn't know about the world that had moved on without him. Lucario, who swore he wasn't hiding, just seeking a temporary refuge to think, went along willing with Aileen's suggestion. Ash was another story.

Still trying to find his pokemon partner, he didn't want to relinquish the search for anything. Not even for answers to unsettling questions he still had. It took Aileen's reassurance that she would join in the search for pikachu after the meeting, along with any remaining palace staff she could spare at the late hour, to convince Ash to join them.

Ash did admit that he needed to be there too, as much as he didn't want to be. They needed to figure this thing out, whatever 'this thing' might be.

The throne room, as it was called, held two small thrones just like the raised dais in the ballroom. The narrow room was far less cavernous than the ballroom, though, with thicker, closer walls and full carpets. Behind the thrones was a giant portrait of both Sir Aaron and Queen Rin, looking out regally over the proceedings. Ash got the instant sense that the room was mostly for show. His suspicions were confirmed as King Roman sat awkwardly at the foot of his throne and Aileen opted to just stand by the armrest of her own.

When Ash entered the room, Lucario was standing in direct center. To avoid being too close to the undesirable pokemon, Ash chose to lean casually against a far column, several feet away from the group. Lucario made no comment, but the princess gave Ash a disapproving look.

King Roman was still in his royal garb, minus his heavy crown. Aileen, too, had little time to change. She had, however, removed the deceitful wig, her dirty blonde hair hanging short about her ears and thick-framed glasses back on her face. Ash appreciated the change. Princess Aileen was far more intimidating than just Aileen.

"Lucario, I know you must be exhausted." Aileen began upon Ash's entrance. "But… we must get to the bottom of what happened tonight. I hope you will indulge our curiosity."

Lucario bowed his head respectfully.  _"I shall do my best, your highness."_

Both King and Princess looked appropriately at a loss for words. It was one thing to put on an act for the annual festival; it was quite another when the opposing party accepted it so willingly. Neither had true experience as the royalty they reenacted for their little parties.

"Um, yes well… I guess it would be best to… start with what we know. And you can correct our understanding of it." Aileen looked helplessly over to her father, who nodded encouragingly. Aileen cleared her throat and continued. "Our legends of Sir Aaron always said you had fallen in battle, though your body had never been recovered."

" _As I already said, Sir Aaron imprisoned me in the staff."_

"Yes, why would he do that?"

" _Are there stories about the Great War? Of how Cameron was dragged into the conflict?"_

Ash's attention was piqued. He couldn't help but draw closer, this being a part of his childhood bedtime stories that he could barely remember. Aileen nodded but said, "Please, enlighten us. How did it really happen?"

Lucario let his eyelids fall. His words fell like a wash over them all, intoxicating and deep in their own minds. As if their own thoughts were building up the story; if only the sorrowful tinge wasn't there to pull them back into reality.

Lucario spoke at great length of the increasing border threat, and how Queen Rin had been strongly urged to leave. Time and time again, her life was threatened. Currently with child and having no other heir to take the throne if she should perish, her safety was paramount. But the Lady was as stubborn as she was willful. Her consort, Sir Aaron, was staying. As were most of her subjects, those too old or sick to evacuate. Their kingdom was trapped between the two terrible forces, in a war they had no standing in, and yet were due to pay the ultimate price for. The Queen saw that if her kingdom should fall, it was only fitting that she should perish along with it.

"When the time had come, the forces were converging on either side of our kingdom. I, along with Sir Aaron, took up arms to protect Cameron. We had tried many times to slow the troops, to trap and trick them into changing course. But it was all for naught. Perhaps Sir Aaron saw that before I. How our efforts were useless. I was prepared to die to protect Cameron, my kingdom, my home. But he—" Lucario squeezed his eyes shut, as if afraid to open them again.

Aileen looked as if she wanted to go to him, but she held herself back, perhaps thinking the comfort would be unwelcome from a stranger.

"Our legend says," Aileen began dryly. "That Sir Aaron sacrificed himself in one final attempt to stop the fighting. Cameron didn't fall. Queen Rin lived to carry on the royal line."

" _That isn't possible. I saw Sir Aaron fleeing the field of battle. And when I tried to stop him—"_

"Maybe you misunderstood."

Lucario shot Ash an exasperated look. Ash shrugged in response. Though he did feel like his comment was probably contrary for the sake of being contrarian, Lucario's explanation for what happened just rubbed Ash the wrong way. He didn't really have any true stake in Sir Aaron's reputation, but it still felt wrong that Cameron spent centuries celebrating a coward. He didn't want to believe it, not when it used to be such a good bedtime story.

" _How could I have misunderstood?"_  Ash didn't fail to notice the bit of venom in Lucario's biting tone. He just chose to ignore it.

"Perhaps he was getting something. Something to give everyone an edge in the fight?"

" _Hm. So he fled the battlefield because he forgot his good lance back in the castle courtyard? And so he must have trapped me in the staff for several centuries just for a good laugh?"_

"I'm just saying! There might be another explanation for what you saw."

" _You were not there, boy. You don't know anything about anything."_

Ash pushed off the column he had been leaning against, hand flying to his pokebelt. "Oh, and you do?"

"Ash!" Aileen cried, stepping between the two. However, her opened palms were pointed Ash's way, intending to hold him and only him back. "Please!"

Ash took the interruption as more of an affront than Lucario did. Especially in how Aileen was scolding him like he was the sole aggressor. It wasn't his fault the pokemon refused to think outside of his own narrow perspective. "Oh come on," Ash whined. "You can't say he doesn't have a history of jumping to conclusions! You saw what he did to me when he came out of the staff!"

" _I told you, you resembled Sir Aaron."_

"You also said you couldn't see me! So which is it?"

Lucario stumbled back like an animal cornered. He looked between the human faces in the room, settling on the massive portrait hanging above their heads. The likeness was close, but not quite. Obviously, it had been painted after the royal couple's lifetime. Lucario certainly didn't remember so vain a portraiture hanging in the old throne room; a court of arms held that place. But it seemed that after his passing, Sir Aaron's visage had taken up residence in every spot where Cameron pride used to show. It was as if the whole future was a needlessly cruel hell created to torture him.

"Couldn't see you?" came Aileen's soft whisper.

"Lucario said he had been blinded in battle. But he still thought I was Sir Aaron."

Lucario barely heard the explanation Ash was feeding the Princess. He was temporary lost to the memory of an old friend. But that memory was no more true than the portraits hanging of him.

" _Your wave energy is the same as Sir Aaron's."_

Lucario's sudden interruption startled both princess and pokemon trainer. His words left far more of an impact on the princess. Both she and the king were looking between Lucario and Ash with renewed awe.

Ash, however, had yet to grow any appreciation for what wave was. He sighed, "You said that wasn't possible."

" _It isn't,"_ Lucario snapped. _"And yet here we are."_

Far from being upset, both Roman and Aileen looked positively elated by the news. Roman kept chuckling and shaking his head. Aileen was hiding her girlish giggles behind her hands. And both of them were looking at Ash as if he were in on this big, wonderful secret. Ash stared, dumbfounded, back at them both.

"What?"

"Lucario, you don't mean...?" Aileen smiled, heedless of obvious lack of enjoyment Lucario got from the same news.

"Mean what?"

"Ah, Ash my boy!" Roman came up, giving him a hearty slap on the back. "Who would've guessed!"

"Guessed what?"

" _Isn't it obvious?"_

"No!" Ash snapped back, whirling back around to Aileen—someone he hoped would have a straight answer. She did seem to take pity on him.

"Ash, wave energy. Each person has their own aura. It's as distinct as a fingerprint. So if you have a similar wave signature to Sir Aaron… enough to confuse a wave user like Lucario, then you must…"

"What? Are you saying… I'm like Sir Aaron's reincarnation or something?"

"Ha! No, nothing so fantastical," Roman barked.

"No, Ash. If your wave is the same then you must be…"

" _Sir Aaron's descendant."_

Ash looked back at Lucario. He didn't like the look the pokemon was giving him. Lucario was sizing him up, measuring his worth against the giant portrait behind them, but Ash couldn't tell if it was to determine the similarities or to appreciate the differences.

" _You're Sir Aaron's descendant,"_ Lucario repeated. " _His direct descendant."_

Ash had hardly a second for this heavy realization to sink in. Aileen was laughing again. Ash couldn't see what was so funny.

Before Ash could really disentangle his shorted emotions, Roman had captured Ash in a giant hug. "Welcome to the family!" He shouted merrily, crushing Ash in his friendly embrace.

All Ash could feel, aside from his crushed limbs, was numb. Sir Aaron… His ancestor… What was that supposed to  _mean_?

And Lucario wouldn't look away from Ash's conflicted face. Ash had the horrible feeling the pokemon could see right through him.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please Read and Review!


	8. Disappointed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're leaving, Ash!"  
> James couldn't hear Ash's reply. But he could clearly read Ash's response on his lips. Oh no, you're not. Ash had ripped a pokeball off his belt.  
> "Shit."  
> "What is it?"  
> "I think Ash is going to attack us."  
> "What? What did we do?!"Jessie rushed to the side of the basket that James was currently looking over. She threw out her arms as if to shoo Ash away somehow. "God dammit, Twerp! Leave us alone!"  
> James caught words like "thieves" and "Pikachu" on the boy's lips. Suddenly, James noticed that Ash didn't have the familiar yellow rat on his shoulder. And he was grabbing a pokeball instead of ordering a thunderbolt down from the sky.  
> "He thinks we stole Pikachu!"  
> "He thinks WHAT?"

**Chapter Eight:** Disappointed

Always said I was a good kid  
Always said I had a way with words  
Never knew I could be speechless  
Don't know how I'll ever break this curse  
-Daughter

**Past**

**C** urfew had already passed. A pokemon center was closing for the night. It was one of the few along the path to the nearest city, the last for many miles. In the evenings, it tended to fill with trainers eager for a place to sleep—indoors for a change. This evening was no different from the others. Several trainers, mostly young men in this batch, had taken up to play card games in the lobby, whittling away the time until lights out. Nurse Joy had just been lowering the shutter doors when a hand suddenly caught the underside, preventing it from closing.

Joy gave a yelp of surprise, alerting the nearby trainers to the latecomer. A few of the more skittish trainers reached for their pokebelts. But the young man who had just ducked inside didn't have the Rocket look to him. He seemed a trainer of some years, several heads taller than most of the trainers in the center. He was of lean build, had shaggy, unkempt dark hair and was of possible Kanto descent.

Unlike the others who had been eager to throw off their packs as soon as they entered, this man kept all his gear on, instead marching straight over to where everyone had been relaxing, ignoring Joy's indignation. His approach hushed their easy conversations. Unnerving red-tinted eyes sized each up in turn, lingering only for the briefest of moments on a young boy in the corner with a Pikachu perched on his shoulder.

"I need trainers. Brave ones. To help me hunt a pokemon," said the strange man curtly.

The trainers looked at each other uncertainly. Most of them were only just a few years into their journey: beginners and casuals. The stranger's intensity was enough to turn them off.

"What kind of pokemon?" Asked a brunette, tossing down her hand of cards. She looked to be closer in age to the stranger, sixteen or so, which might have given her a bit of her bravery.

The man smiled coldly, probably already anticipating their response.

"Mew."

Those trainers not fresh in their journey were quick to laugh.

"A Mew hunter," laughed the girl , tossing her hair dismissively. "Should have known."

"You won't find any volunteers here, friend," said a stern-looking trainer sitting her opposite. "We're used to your kind of moron. Ain't no one looking for a mew ever found one. You'd be better off looking to pluck some of Ho-oh's ass feathers."

The trainers sitting around him muttered and chuckled in collective agreement.

The stranger took their comments in stride. He didn't even seem troubled by their dismissal. He didn't try to convince them or fight to be taken seriously. The only thing that passed his lips was a small sigh of disappointment. He had gotten his answer and turned to leave.

But he and the other trainers were all surprised when one trainer stood up. That trainer was Ash Ketchum.

Ash ignored the looks. He knew what they were thinking. He wasn't a newbie who didn't know any better, nor was he that impressive looking compared to those around him. But Ash was fourteen, on a dry spell, and eager to prove himself.

He balled his fists and stared the stranger down.

"I'll go," Ash said.

"You?" The stranger smirked, obviously as unimpressed with him as the other trainers had been.

Pikachu grumbled from his perch, drawing the stranger's eyes to him. But unlike the glare the stranger leveled at all the other humans, with Pikachu his eyes were kind. When he caught Pikachu looking back, the stranger winked at him. Pikachu bristled.

"I've competed in many leagues: Kanto, Johto, Hoenn… I even won the Orange Archipelago tournament."

"Not looking for your resumé, kid."

"Well, then what  _are_  you looking for?"

The stranger thought for a moment. He lifted his hand over Ash's head as if measuring something there. "Someone a little taller."

Ash slapped the hand away. "Come on!"

"Convince me, then."

Ash frowned and glanced around at all the eyes still on them. It took him a moment, but a counter-argument came to mind at last.

"You don't have a choice," Ash swept his arms out in a gesture to the cowed trainers around him. "I'm the only one willing to go. You want trainers. I'm a trainer. I'm your best bet."

The stranger was silent for a long moment. And for a few long, agonizing seconds, Ash thought he might have not convinced him. The stranger had a killer poker face.

Then, at last, the man shrugged. "What's your name, kid?"

"Ash Ketchum. I'm not a kid," said Ash automatically. "What's yours?"

The stranger's gaze drifted, waffling around the room, not looking at anything in particular. He thumbed his nose absentmindedly before saying, "Red."

Ash didn't have the stranger's poker face. "Red? Your name is Red? ...As in the color?"

"And yours is Ash? As in  _soot_?"

 _Touché_ , Ash thought bitterly. But he didn't give Red the satisfaction of an answer.

"Now that that's squared away,  _Soot,_ " Red said the nickname with a bit of relish, obviously enjoying the look of annoyance on the younger boy's face. "Let's see exactly how good a trainer you are."

"Huh?"

Red flashed his own pokeball Ash's way. "I'm challenging you to a pokemon battle. Think you can take me…  _Soot_?"

* * *

**Present**

**I** t had started raining. A delightfully depressing little drizzle that was just enough to suck the warmth out of the air when walking through Cameron's stone corridors. Ash was starting to regret his change of attire, hugging his bare arms as he stood around impatiently for someone to tell him how to be.

How to be… what exactly? Arms folded tightly to his chest and bouncing up onto his toes and then back down, Ash felt trapped, spiraling in place. He was buzzing with adrenaline and yet… aimless. Ash still didn't know what this new information about his ancestry meant. Was it supposed to mean anything?

Ash stared up at the impressively tall tapestry depicting an expansive family tree spread on the wall in front of him. Each name was stitched neatly with both approximate birth and death dates lined up underneath. The span of long-dead names and ancient dates reminded Ash of the time he tried to help Brock do some family ancestry hunting. They dug through the Pewter City library, scrounging up dusty old newspapers and obituary notices, trying to find some trace of his paternal lineage. But the Pewter City gym leader's family line could only be traced back so far.

Ash supposed that was what happened when you were descended from miners and shoe cobblers. You weren't important enough to remember once you were gone.  _Not everyone was lucky enough to be descended from royalty_ , Ash thought bitterly. This family tree with its widespread branches was so intimidating. Intimidating and overwhelming.

Ash rubbed feeling back into his cold arms.

Ash never met his own grandparents. He didn't even know his own father. How could he possibly be expected to accept a whole ancestry when he didn't even know his own immediate relations?

The quiet footsteps coming down the corridor towards him could only be human, so Ash didn't turn. He kept his eyes focused on the blur of names that meant nothing to him. Aileen saddled up alongside, her nose buried in a tome she'd carted out for the two of them to share. And then, heedless to Ash's conflicted mess of an emotional state, Aileen started up as if continuing a conversation they had been having.

"I'd imagine it would have to be Crown Prince Alexander."

Though Ash really wasn't to keen on this line of subject, his curiosity got the better of him. Staring blearily up at the names at the topmost branches, none of which resembled any familiar relations he was aware of, Ash asked, "Who's that?"

"Well umm…" said Aileen suddenly fumbling as she hastily flipped through the pages of her heavy book. "Your ancestor, I suppose. He's the only one whose descendants are unaccounted for. And the only one with a direct line to Sir Aaron's bloodline. He's Sir Aaron's first grandson. Here." Aileen held out the book with two hands, nodding to a small portrait of a man who certainly could have been his relative. Alexander had his mother's chocolate brown hair and the traditional amber eyes. The thin, beardless jawline was much like Ash's own, and they shared the same small nose. Ash frowned down at the portrait.

"What happened to him?"

"He renounced the throne. Passed it off to a younger sibling; many of his family were already vying for the throne at the time. The stories say he wanted to be an adventurer, so despite his parents' wishes, he marched out and cut all ties. We always assumed he died childless, but it's very possible that you could be his descendant, born from a child he conceived while adventuring."

This story went a bit against the grain. A would-be dreamer, abandoning friends and family for a wanderer's life. No… Ash didn't have anything in common with this man  _at all._

How could history be… what did Gary call it... so  _ironic_? It was a bit on the nose, really.

"So…"

"Soooo?" Aileen clapped the heavy book shut. She was smiling but Ash found it impossible to reciprocate.

"So what? What does it mean? Crown… King- Prince, Ali what's-his-face. If I am related to him… what does it mean?"

"Well… for one, I guess it means you have a claim on the throne."

Ash blanched. Aileen waved his dumbstruck expression away. "Don't worry! It's not a strong one. If your ancestor actually did officially renounce the throne, you'd be completely out of the running. But… the records are a bit unclear. That he left Cameron, that much is clear. But as to whether or not he officially surrendered his claim on the throne to his siblings…" Aileen shrugged. Ash wasn't too pleased with the indifference.

"If he didn't 'officially'... then what?"

"Well then, I guess that makes you the rightful King."

"Oh no. No," Ash sputtered, exing his arms over and over in protest. "No way. No way. No way in hell."

"Well, don't sound so excited."

But she was smiling knowingly. Ash's terror melted into annoyance. "You're messing with me."

Aileen winked. "Just a little."

Before Ash could stomp away from her, Aileen wrapped her arms around him laughing, "Aw come on. You just looked so glum. I couldn't help it."

Her arms were simultaneously wonderful and smothering and Ash both wanted and didn't want them around him. He could feel her chest pressing into his back. She had his arms pinned; preventing him from slipping away from her. She wouldn't let him stay angry. And Ash had a hard time remaining so. Of course, he also had a hard time thinking, being held this way.

"You thought I looked sad," said Ash, somehow muscling through his discomfort. "So you decided to mess with me?"

"Yup." Aileen poked his cheek. "You get so pouty. It's cute." Ash's ears burned red at the word. But he said nothing. And Aileen continued on, heedless of the effect her words had. "Besides, we're family now.  _Distant_  family but still family. Cousins mess with each other. I need to make up for lost time."

 _Cousins_. That word sunk like a heavy stone in Ash's gut. This time, Aileen seemed to notice the change on Ash's face. She frowned. That forced Ash to look away.

His cheeks warmed as Aileen took up his hand once again. "Come on." She offered no chance to argue, pulling him along like an uncooperative kite on a string. They ran through the halls, Ash only just able to keep pace with Aileen's longer strides. No longer hindered by the restrictions of a ball gown, the young princess could move quite fast. They darted around corners, bursting through rooms full of still-mingling guests—no one seeming to pay either much mind. Twice, they had to dodge out of the way of an oncoming person, shouting apologies (through laughter in Aileen's case) over their shoulders. Her bubbly laugh was infectious and even Ash found himself smiling, somehow enjoying their brisk jog through the castle.

Eventually, Aileen stopped, causing Ash to unintentionally bump into her from behind. She shushed both his and her own giggles. They were standing in front of giant oak doors that swept all the way to the ceiling. There was a smaller door cut into the large ones, and it was through this door that Aileen beckoned Ash.

It wasn't that long after sundown, but the insides of this room were pitch black. Ash blinked in his sudden blindness, his other senses heightened by the loss of the first. He breathed in a heavy musk of "old"; the kind of smell that clung to things from people long dead and gone. It made his head feel heavy. Aileen's guiding hand was the only reason Ash moved forward. Trusting her where his eyes failed. Perhaps a bit too trusting, as she accidentally ran his shins into a low ottoman.

Aileen procured a light from somewhere, a candlestick and a match. The glow lit up her apologetic smile as Ash rubbed his sore legs. She took the stick to a few more candles about the large room. And it was then, through the pockets of light, that Ash realized where he was. The castle library. The large, towering bookshelves could only indicate as such.

He felt like he was standing in a dimly lit graveyard, wading amongst towering gravestones. The mute stillness was both oddly sad and comforting in equal measure. Not wanting to be left alone, Ash followed Aileen as she walked amongst the shelves of books, a firefly bouncing through the darkness.

Then they came upon what Aileen had evidently brought Ash to see. In the center of the room was a large glass case. And inside, Ash saw a familiar set of items. The ancient staff with its glittering gemstone, just catching the light from Aileen's candle, hung on a metal stand. And below the staff, navy gloves with its own crystal insets: the gloves Ash had worn to the tournament and to the ill-fated ball. Ash sent a questioning look Aileen's way but she only had eyes for the objects sealed beneath the glass.

"Pretty, aren't they? Forbidden, too. Only taken out once a year. Funny how things that you can't touch can make your fingers itch. I want to touch them even more." Aileen turned up two latches simultaneous with a loud click. Then, as if just demonstrating that she could, Aileen slid back the glass panel. She didn't stick her hand inside. Just stared and slid the panel closed again.

"The royal family likes to give tokens to their favorites during the tournament. I… I honestly never much cared. I guess, in a way, I was always jealous. They were all pokemon trainers, like you. Something I was never given a chance to be. Why would I give them a favor? They already had better luck than me," Aileen sighed, her eyes shining oddly in the low light. "I had the gloves. I was using them, studying the effects of the crystal in their center."

Ash's heart skipped a beat. The gloves.  _His gloves?_  She had given him  _stolen_ gloves? At Ash's horror-struck look, she quickly added. "They aren't even Sir Aaron's. The gloves are replicas. No one ever recovered Aaron's actual gauntlets."

"Why did you take them?"

"Sir Aaron had powers. Or so the legends say. I had a theory… well, it was more of a guess than anything. I thought that maybe he used the crystals to draw on wave somehow. I was… trying to find a way to do the same thing." Her smile was weak. "Many tries. Many failures. Nothing came of it. Well, a few explosions, but nothing fruitful."

Ash didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Eventually, her eyes returned to his own. "I gave up. So I tossed you a token, the gloves. You won the tournament and then… you made the staff glow."

"You think the gloves did that?"

"No," Aileen shook her head. "I think  _you_ did that."

Ash didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to be near this case of ancient magical objects. He didn't want to be related to a failed hero. It felt all too big, like a giant marble wedged in his throat that he just couldn't swallow. Why did this sort of thing  _always_ happen to him?

"Aileen, I-"

"You and I both know that you summoned Lucario somehow. With wave. It's… It's remarkable," She let out a breathy laugh. Ash didn't want to look at her. Didn't want to hear whatever plea she was going to make. "Lucario could teach you. We could all learn. More about wave. More about the past."

"What are you getting at?" He didn't mean to make his words sound so cold, so sharp. But they were. Aileen flinched.

"I was... hoping you'd help me. Lucario needs to find out what happened to him. And we should figure out what happened to you. If you stayed… just a little while longer, we could get to the bottom of this mys—"

"Once I find Pikachu, I need to leave."

"Ash—"

"Please, Aileen. I need to go home. I don't want any part of this."

The silence hung heavy around them. Ash could feel the sharpness in it. The pain. Ash saw her wishes as childish; wishes of a dreamer, just as foolish as his own had once been. She may have been older, but Ash had seen more. Experienced more. He was none too eager to see how this would turn out. And he was positive that if he was a part of it, it wouldn't end well.

"Alright," Aileen said gently, blowing out her candle. "Let's find Pikachu then."

* * *

**Past**

**R** ed learned a lot about Ash over the next few days, and Ash learned practically nothing about Red in return. That was probably because the silence between them was as hard and icy as the mountain weather. Red waded in the silence, completely unperturbed. Ash couldn't stop his mouth from moving. Maybe it was because his words felt the need to keep up with his chattering teeth, although it was more likely that Ash just didn't like the silence. It made Red seem more imposing and unfriendly than Ash suspected he actually was. Or at least, that's what Ash hoped.

They were making their way slowly through the snow-capped mountain range. By this point in the journey, Ash had exhausted almost all points of conversation. Not that Red really reciprocated much more than a grunt or an "is that so?" He marched on ahead, forcing Ash to make conversations with his back. There were only so many topics you could bounce off a wall. His training, his friends. He didn't really want to talk about his mom and her attempt to end his pokemon journey, but eventually, the threat of more silence brought it up.  _That's lame_ , Red had responded. And that was it. The dry desperation for any sort of communication was sliding Ash down a dangerous slope. If this kept up, he might actually start bringing up his secret crushes and Misty. He really didn't want to start blabbing about Misty.

Pikachu was probably regretting his choice to stay out of the warm pokeball but he never complained. And Ash knew better than to try and force him into it. The pokemon kept tight to Ash's shoulder, huddling in the nook of Ash's neck to keep warm. Sometimes, when he was really too cold, Pikachu yanked at Ash's scarf and took some of it for himself. It helped, a little.

The snow was starting to get calf deep. It was a struggle to keep yanking his legs out of the sinking snow again and again. Ash had dressed for the weather the best he could. High socks, thermals, and jeans; his jeans were already soaked through from the knees down. Red was clearly more prepared with both snow and climbing gear neatly packed in his things. Ash had marveled at watching Red procure the appropriate gear when it was needed. The young man had nothing in his pack that wasn't meant for survival. No comic books, no extra snacks, and definitely no extra pairs of underwear.

Red cut the way for them, saying little. And when he was sure Ash wasn't looking, Red would look back at him. He'd watch silently as the boy struggled to keep up the rear. He'd watch the boy's lively and exaggerated motions, how he'd swing his arms too much as he marched. It looked exhausting. And then he'd notice Ash move his hand back, every now and then, to give his pikachu a kind pat.

Although he'd never say it, Red found Ash just as fascinating as Ash found him. He filed away every story, every breathless confession, building up a mental account of the young trainer he currently had as his partner. He was a noisy, reckless mixed-up mess of a trainer: ill-prepared and inexperienced. But Ash was also relentless. Even when faced with terrible odds, he didn't flinch.

There was no way Ash could win against Red's far more talented and experienced team of pokemon. From the very first pokeball, Red had procured a powerful line-up. Pokemon that were not only fully evolved but built, thick with toned muscles. They towered over Ash and his pikachu. But Ash fought anyway. He lost round after round with a grim-faced determination. At the end of the match, Red had downed all 6 of Ash's pokemon. And yet, despite being hopelessly outgunned, Ash had somehow managed to down 3 of Red's.

Red hadn't had a pokemon of his knocked out in years. And certainly not by some nobody trainer on the road to nowhere.

Ash was impulsive, fueled by a seemingly endless fire. He took risks. He was innovative, desperately creative. He used the environment, ordering Pikachu to leap off the pokemon center roof—using gravity for extra hitting power. He used unique hand signals so that Red couldn't hear the move coming. And above it all, the rapport with his pokemon ran deep. When Ash lost, he didn't cry. He only cried over Pikachu, sweeping its small unconscious form into his arms. And even those were small, angry tears that Ash was too proud to wipe away.

Ash had things to prove. And seemingly nothing to lose.

Much to Red's own surprise, Red discovered he was jealous. That and he probably liked the kid, dumb as that was.

The mountain dropped off right past this point. The sudden cliff blended into the endless white of the snow. Red only knew because he had been here before. He held out his arm, blocking Ash from walking off to his death.

"Drop off," said Red simply.

"Oh," Ash frowned. He folded his arms to hide how cold he was. Pretending to be tough, just like a kid. Red could see him trembling. "What now?"

Red didn't answer. He tossed his backpack off and rummaged around again for what he needed. He pulled out a long rope, a web of belts and metal rings, all of which just looked like a complicated mess to Ash. But he got the general idea: Red intended for them to climb down.

"Here." Red tossed a tangled belt Ash's way, a harness for himself. Ash looked down at it helplessly. Red must have taken pity on him, as he didn't leave Ash in uncomfortable silence for long. He abandoned the rope and anchor he was driving into the hard soil and came over to help strap Ash in.

Ash didn't know how Red did it. He wasn't wearing full gloves; the cold should have numbed Red's hands. But instead, he was surprisingly deft at pulling at the straps and belting Ash's legs in. He tugged on the metal hoop (the carabiner, Red called it) making sure everything was appropriately tight. But not too tight. He had to be able to climb, after all.

Ash tried to swallow the nervous butterflies that were swarming in his insides. He had never really been afraid of heights, but he also hadn't ever tried scaling a cliff face before, either. He kept unintentionally flashing worst-case scenarios in his mind. And in his lifetime, unfortunately, there had been many near life-ending events to choose from. He had only almost fallen to his death a few  _dozen_ times.

"So Red, ummm… I'm not saying I'm nervous. Cause I'm not. Not nervous," He laughed nervously, chittering like a patrat. It was very unconvincing. Red only rose his eyebrow in response.

"Sure?"

"Yeah… But ummm… Do you think we could… iunno. Talk… so I can… get my mind off… this." Ash pulled on the rope lifeline for emphasis. Red shrugged. He was almost done securing his own harness. Almost ready to launch himself over the edge.

"Go ahead."

"W-well, I thought… you could talk some. I mean, I know nothing about you."

"Hm," Red seemed too preoccupied with his harness to answer. He gave it a tight tug and then finally looked up. "Like what?"

"Uh… well, like… who are your parents?"

"You wouldn't know them."

"No, I mean, like… what do they do? Are they trainers?"

Red's eyes took on a distant look. But to his credit, he answered. "Yes. They were. Yours?"

"Uh no," Ash laughed. "No, my mom probably couldn't battle her way out of a paper bag. She'd worry too much about hurting the other pokemon. She's very… gentle that way. But I mean, you already knew that about my mom. How she doesn't like me pokemon training." Ash wasn't quite ready to switch the focus back on him. This was the most he had gotten out of the older man in hours. "Your parents must be proud of you then? You're a," Ash swallowed. "A very good trainer."

"No," said Red softly. "They don't know about this."

"Oh." This was a turn! "So you ran away? Like me?"

"No. Nothing to run away from. They're dead."

"Oh."  _Well, so much for that conversation!_  Ash stared hard at the ground, hating himself. Even Pikachu looked appropriately abashed. They both missed the small smile that stole on Red's lips. Ash let the silence hang for too long. Too long before he realized he should say something. Apologize... anything. He stumbled into it too fast, tripping up on his words as he did.

"I'msorryIdidn'tkno—" Red cut him off.

"I grew up with my grandfather. And when he passed, I was on my own. So… I became a trainer."

Ash swallowed. His throat hurt. "To be like them?"

Red nodded.

Ash noted he didn't look mad. Not mad like Ash would be. He hated people reminding him of bad things, like how he slept in on his first day of training and was given a leftover pokemon. Or how he lost the Indigo League because he didn't train his charizard properly. He'd probably punch the person in the face who brought that up. Unless it was Misty. Misty was there… she was allowed to comment on it. As long as it wasn't often.

No, Red wasn't mad. He looked calm, his face completely smooth like the surface of glassy water. Ash supposed that was the look of someone who didn't let people cast rocks into their lakes. He had sealed them off long ago.

"Like them," Red repeated. "But better."

And that's when he jumped backward off the cliff.

* * *

**Present**

**T** he rain was coming down harder. James could hear it bouncing off the sides of the canvas, running down like tears. The balloon had been all fitted up, inflated, hot and ready to go. They had gathered enough supplies. The sandbags were ready to be thrown from the sides of the basket. But they were down one pokemon: one obnoxious talking cat.

Jessie said she didn't care. She kept threatening to leave him if Meowth didn't show in the next ten minutes. Ten minutes became twenty, and then fifty, and then two hours. Still, she kept pretending. Because she was Jessie. And she didn't want James to see how worried she actually was.

They had already looked through the castle. They blended in with other search parties looking for something called a Lucario. Waving flashlights and mimicking the trainers around them, the Team Rocket members secretly scoured the large gardens and then castle halls for their missing pokemon. They didn't think he'd go far. Surely he'd have stayed near the food for as long as possible. And when the strange pokemon was summoned by Ash, Meowth would have sought his partners out immediately. The fact that he didn't, said either one of two things to James. Either Meowth wasn't aware of what happened in the ballroom and had no idea that he should be looking for his teammates to make their hasty escape, or something had happened to him. And the longer they searched, the more James started to believe it was the latter.

Jessie worried the rim of the basket, cutting her nails into the hard bamboo weave. Her eyes kept scanning the lowly lit courtyard for the pokemon they were slowly starting to suspect was nowhere near.

"Something's happened," James said. Jessie shook her head. "Come on, Jessie. You know something's happened. Meowth would be here otherwise."

"Five more minutes. Then we are definitely leaving."

Her knuckles were turning white from holding the basket's rim too tightly. James wanted to grab up her hand, cradle it and gently soothe the worry out of it. But Jessie wouldn't like that. So instead he just stared as the raindrops dotted her skin.

"Maybe," James began gently. "Maybe we can search better from above."

He thought she'd protest. Perhaps she even meant to. But instead, she bit at her lips and nodded. They didn't want to leave Meowth. He was more than just a pokemon to them. He was their partner. Their friend. But the weather was getting worse—if they stayed any longer, they'd be grounded. Trapped with whatever was coming after the Chosen One this time.

James slowly unbound one sandbag while Jessie anxiously undid the other. With a nod shared between them, they tossed them overboard. The balloon lifted, still bound by a single tether. James was just about to cut themselves free when he spotted something. A white face peering out at them from one of the stained glass windows. James hesitated.

And that's when the shouting came.

The face disappeared from the window. And it suddenly became all too apparent who the face belonged to. Ash tore into the courtyard, waving his arms and shouting at them. None of it sounded too friendly. But they were already several feet up and his voice couldn't carry in the wind.

There was a girl behind him. James didn't recognize her, but she was undoubtedly another stranger that Ash had randomly befriended. He seemed to pick up new friends like a growlithe would fleas. She wasn't shouting. But that was okay, as Ash was clearly shouting more than enough for the two of them.

"What? What are you saying?" James shouted back.

Jessie grabbed James' shoulder. "Just ignore him," she snapped. "We're leaving."

"We're leaving, Ash!"

James couldn't hear Ash's reply. But he could clearly read Ash's response on his lips.  _Oh no, you're not._ Ash had ripped a pokeball off his belt.

"Shit."

"What is it?"

"I think Ash is going to attack us."

" _What?_ What did we  _do_?!"Jessie rushed to the side of the basket that James was currently looking over. She threw out her arms as if to shoo Ash away somehow. "God dammit, Twerp! Leave us alone!"

James caught words like " _thieves"_ and " _Pikachu"_ on the boy's lips. Suddenly, James noticed that Ash didn't have the familiar yellow rat on his shoulder. And he was grabbing a pokeball instead of ordering a thunderbolt down from the sky.

"He thinks we stole Pikachu!"

" _He thinks WHAT?"_

There was a sudden crack as lightning forked through the air behind them. Jessie shrieked and dove into James' back, hiding her face. It was too close. They could still feel the buzz in the air. A second roar proceeded the first. But this one was clearly not nature made.

The rain was coming down as thick as a curtain. And from the fog of rain emerged a pair of enormous and strong beating wings, pumping through the sluggish air with enough effort to toss raindrops back their way. James lurched away from that side of the basket. A tail had swung up, its torch-like glow briefly outlining the face of the dragon currently heading their way. Blood pounding in his ears and acting purely on instinct alone, James grabbed Jessie about the middle and pulled her down to the bottom of the basket.

There was a sudden rush of heat overhead. James squeezed his eyes shut and held on tighter as Jessie screamed. Another crack. Another roar. Another explosion that threw them violently downwards. And for the second time in days, James felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. They fell in a sickening spiraling tumble, crashing back down into the courtyard.

They hadn't fallen far, thankfully. The explosion was the most damaging, singeing the hairs on the backs of his hands and arms. They were bruised and battered, but not dead. That was important, neither one of them were dead. Jessie, of course, was pissed.

She kicked herself free from the tangle of James' arms and the crumpled mess of the basket. She didn't even pay attention to the heavy rain that was flattening her usually immaculate red hair. Sputtering with fury, she had Ash by the shoulders before James could stop her.

"Why the  _fuck_ did you do that! Asshole! You could have  _killed_ us!"

Ash pried himself free from Jessie's grip, mirroring her fury. "Give me back my pikachu!"

"We didn't take your damn pikachu!"

"Yes, you did!" The girl was there, pulling at Ash's arm, trying to rein him in. He was ignoring her. "I know you did! You always do!"

They had gathered a sizeable crowd. Anyone who had been nearby had run to the sound of the explosion. They were all standing, waiting to be useful and blocking the exits. James found their suspicious eyes unnerving. It was his turn to try to pull Jessie away. She shook him off like a wet rag.

"We didn't this time, dumbass! We promised we wouldn't! Just like you promised not to try and fucking murder us with your big murder dragon!"

Ash flinched. "I didn't promise anything."

"Clearly! James here," Jessie jutted her chin in her partner's direction. "Was too stupid to see how bad your terms were. He doesn't like confrontations."

James paled. He really didn't like the way this conversation was going. "Jessie, I think—"

"Well, I do," She spat, still way too far up in Ash's personal space. "And goddammit, Twerp, you have been nothing but a pain in the ass this whole time! Ordering us around! We aren't your friends, okay? We don't take orders from the likes of you!"

"Ash… what is all this about?" said the girl at Ash's shoulder. In the low light, James finally recognized her. She wasn't wearing the fancy dress or jewelry anymore. And her hair was a different color, but there was no mistaking one of the head honchos of Cameron castle. It seemed Jessie had recognized her too.

"You the princess?"

Ash protectively stepped in front of Aileen. A loud, ominous thud behind them informed them all that Charizard had also landed, taking up a defensive position in the rear. They were now officially flanked. James was liking this less and less by the minute.

"Jessie, don't—" he warned.

"Ash, please. What's going on?"

"They're Team Rocket," said Ash at last, not without certain venom. "Pokemon thieves. They follow me around, constantly. Trying to steal my pikachu. They've been trying for years."

"B-but… I thought they were your friends?"

Jessie laughed at that. Her laugh was high and loud and it hurt James' ears. That's how he knew it wasn't her real laugh. It was the one she belted out when things were starting to hurt, and she was trying to make it stop.

"We're his worst enemies."

 _Well, worst enemies is kind of a stretch,_  James thought. But he didn't want to be having this conversation. Not any of it. They were surrounded by unfriendly eyes and Jessie was doing nothing in their favor.

"I don't understand. Did you steal his Pikachu?" There was some authority returning to the girl's voice. That was worrying. James was starting to look around for some sort of exit strategy. Something… anything!

"I told you we didn't."

"They're lying!"

"Why would we be lying!? Have we ever lied to you?"

"Plenty of times!"

"Not when winning! When we have Pikachu, it's gloating time. Not deception time! Come on, Twerp. It's been years. You'd think you pick up on the patterns already!"

"Shut up! I know you took him!"

"We didn't!"

"Ash, I swear we  _really_ didn't."

There were tears in his eyes, mingling in with the rain drops. He was trying hard to fight them back but not succeeding. But the girl, the princess, Aileen was looking pensive, a dangerous expression. Her lips were pursed and her eyes lowered. When she finally spoke, she whispered words that snuffed out all of Ash's anger. And replaced it with horror.

"Ash. Why did you defend them?"

Ash couldn't look at her. He simply couldn't. So Aileen continued, "Why did you allow pokemon thieves into Cameron castle?"

Jessie's hand shot up. James tried, once again, to pull her away. And, once again, he failed.

"I can answer that," said Jessie smuggly.

"Jessie, no—"

"He didn't want us to blab about his dark and dirty secret."

Ash whipped his head back up. His face as white as a sheet and fists trembling in tight angry balls. He couldn't speak. His lips had been wired shut with fear.

"What secret?"

Ash looked like he was going to be sick.

"He's not a pokemon trainer. His license was suspended weeks ago."

A collective gasp rang out. Or maybe that was just James. He felt like the air had just been let out of the room. Ash swayed on the spot, not able to look anyone in the eye. Aileen didn't even have to ask if it was true. The look on his face spoke volumes.

Only Jessie still remained composed. She wiped the wet hair from her eyes and smiled, "Who's the liar now,  _Ash_?"

* * *

**Past**

**R** ed was an expert at climbing. Ash, not so much. Pikachu's nails were digging into Ash's shoulder as he held on for dear life. Ash wasn't so much climbing as he was controlling his fall. His arms were already hurting from clinging so tightly to the rope currently holding him up. Ash didn't know how Red could do it. He was so relaxed, swinging on the ropes as if all that waited below him was a soft grassy knoll. Not the icy plunge that was actually there.

Ash watched in wonder as Red effortlessly swung himself into a small opening hidden neatly on the sheer cliff face. It was barely enough for Red to land in. He popped inside just as easily as someone catching a grape in their mouth. Ash didn't think he could manage it quite so neatly. He scrambled his way over, pushing off the wall to lower himself and then struggling to pull himself back up when he inevitably dropped too far.

Red coached him through it. He was patient and once Ash was close enough, he helped pull the younger boy in. Pikachu gratefully collapsed at the cave entrance, so happy to have ground underfoot again. Red didn't give Ash the chance to do the same. As soon as he had unbuckled him from the rope, Red was pulling him along.

"Hurry," Red said. There was an eager shine in his eyes. Ash barely had time to shake on his flashlight as he stumbled into pace behind the older trainer. There wasn't anything to see yet. It looked no different than any other cave Ash had been in. It was warmer though. The further in they walked, the more uncomfortable his many layers were starting to make Ash feel. He unzipped his jacket and was starting to contemplate peeling off a sweater or two before the cavern tunnel emptied out ahead.

Red had stopped walking. He was looking ahead and somehow, Ash could tell, he was holding his breath.

Ash didn't know what to expect. A nest? An ancient shrine? Maybe a brilliantly psychic habitat that shimmered like a mirage before human eyes? It was in those few breathless moments that Ash realized he knew very little about Mews. He had been counting on Red's expertise to guide them.

At long last, Red stepped aside and Ash was able to stumble into the room himself. And Ash realized that room was actually the appropriate name for it. The area had been carved out to emulate a more man-made like structure. And on the walls were enormous paintings in colors that caught and shone in the low glow of the flashlight. They looked ancient and nonsensical, stretched out impressively against the hard smooth stone. Humans with overly large heads and flailing arms. Pokemon far more fierce than their real life counterparts. Or perhaps pokemon were just more fierce in ancient times. Ash wasn't sure. He wasn't that old.

But, as Ash moved the flashlight from picture to picture, he saw no sign of Mew. It wasn't until his light fell upon the last painting. Mew hung overhead, ominous in the low shadows, drawn forward by the light emanating from several different pokemon. A few Ash didn't recognize. One, he did. A venusaur. The giant, fully-bloomed flower on its back was hard to miss.

"Is this… some sort of… temple? For Mew?"

Red shook his head. "No. This," He swept his arms around him. "This tells us how to summon one."

" _I have a bad feeling about this,"_  Pikachu said. Neither trainer understood him. And things might have turned out differently if they had.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
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